My Life with the Hetalians
by Anya Jones
Summary: I suck at summaries. Basically, a college girl gets trapped in the Hetalia world and has to deal with it. Plot Twist: she's actually a reincarnation of a long dead mountain civilization. Double Plot Twist: she has a very interesting connection to the Nordics.
1. Chapter 1

It was just like any other day, I suppose.

I was in middle of my twenty first year, nearly two years into my college career. I was just as stressed as always, but I managed, as per usual.

I wasn't exactly what you'd call _normal_. I got good grades and had plenty of friends, sure, but I wasn't anywhere being called "normal".

First of all, I didn't have a car like many others at my University (and, I assume, everywhere else). I lived on campus, and everything I might need _off_ campus was only a mile or two away, an easy enough distance to walk, so why would I need a car? They cost _way _too much, and I'm not really the type of person to spend money unnecessarily on something I don't even _want_. (Plus, there was the fact that I barely knew how to drive; I only passed the test because I had been driving that road for most of my life.)

Secondly, even though I walked everywhere I went, I was always just slightly overweight. I was _not_ fat; I was just a little pudgy around the edges, just enough to be teased for. I was also short for my age, barely five foot one, which did not help my situation. I found the teasing _extremely_ offending, because many of the "populars" were quite big themselves, so I didn't think they had the right to tease someone with less weight problems than they had. However, I tried not to let them get to me.

Of course, that brings me to reason number three that I'd never be normal: I hardly ever spoke. Sure, I was a total chatterbox when I was at home with my family or with my closest friends (of which there were _extremely_ few), but if a stranger (or anyone less than a good friend) talked to me, then they would get minimal reply. I learned long ago that if you did not speak to someone, they could not turn your words around on you. My family would _never _do anything of the sort, and my few close friends had known me so long they were practically family, as well.

I never went partying, though my friends sometimes decided to, often coming back later only slightly drunk (thank goodness), eventually convincing me to join them in a drinking game at their dorm. It usually ended badly, with me extremely drunk and babbling on about some stupid topic or other (you know, like cats in Japan or how _everyone_ should learn German because it is _very_ important).

For some weird reason, I never had a hangover. I never got sick in the morning, or any type of fatigue, for that matter, because of drinking. My friends were a little depressed, and always tried to get me to drink more and more each weekend, trying (and failing) to make me sick. I was always fine in the morning, ready to get on with the day ahead. It wasn't just drinking, either; I've never even had a single cold (though I did get migraines a lot), and I loved flu season.

I mean, it _is_ winter, and snow is just the greatest, right?

But yeah, no hangover or anything. I don't know why. Maybe just another reason I wasn't normal.

Anyway, this monologue is just dragging, isn't it? Well, enough about my problems. I'll get on with the story.

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**Hey guys! So, this is my first fanfiction ****_ever_****, and I'm a little bit nervous that no one will like it. You guys ****_have_**** to review, ok? It'll really help me out if you tell me if something is wrong. Feel free to PM me at any time. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

This day was slightly better than normal; I had managed to escape most of the usual teasing, and I didn't have as much homework as I usually did. I decided to reward myself with an hour or two (or three or four or five…) at the library.

I always went to the library on calm days. It helped me clear my head of all the criticisms and schoolwork, and I just love the smell of books, especially old and used ones. There's just something about it…Well, like I said, I love the library. I had been to both the nonfiction and fiction sections recently, so I decided to try the manga/anime section.

This section was my baby. I usually volunteered at the library at least once a month, sometimes more, and since I've been going there for years, the community board members permitted me to add anything to the library that I wanted, if I raised enough money to supply it. I had already had a ton of money (like, a couple thousand dollars) saved up to fund a paint job on the exterior of the building (no need to use the money on buying a car, and my college tuition had been paid months ago, as it always was, a fact that I was extremely suspicious about, and yet thankful for), so I just split the stash right down the middle; half went towards paints, the other half went to my project.

I decided to try and collect as many mangas and animes as possible, so that the teenagers in the community would have a reason to go to the library every once in a while. It worked perfectly, and soon a lot of the teenagers were coming in for other books, as well.

There were a couple of girls in this section of the library, but they were just leaving as I arrived. They were going to check out a pile of mangas, and, from the look of one of the shelves, they were all from the same series. I just shrugged. They must be fast readers, like me.

I went over to the empty shelf, looking to see if any of the other series had been disturbed, but everything seemed perfectly in order. However, on the bottom shelf, I noticed that the _hack._ series was out of order, which made no sense. I was here just last month, and everything was perfect. Some teens must have come in while I was gone and not known the order.

I sat down on the floor and took the contents of the shelf out, laying them all out in front of me. I had put half of them back in their correct order before realizing that some of them were not going as far back as the others. I figured there was a board or something blocking the way, so I took them all back out again. When I pulled the last one out, another book fell out after it.

_Well, this is odd, _I thought. I flipped the book over to read the cover, and was surprised to find that it was a copy of the first _Hetalia _manga. _Axis Powers_ was written clearly on the book, the cover of which was very weathered. I was a bit confused. I had tried to find the series many times, but as far as I knew, no one sold hard copies; it was all digital. I flipped to the cover page, thinking perhaps there was a name in it, so that I could return it to the person if they came looking for it. Upon looking at the inside cover, I found the words, "If found, return to H.K.".

"H.K.? Who on earth is H.K.?" I asked myself quietly, so as not to disturb the rest of the library. Suddenly, there was a strange light coming from the book, blinding me.

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**I know, I know; it's totally and completely cheesy. But I couldn't for the life of me figure out another way to segue into the next part. I'm so sorry. Please review! The next chapter is going to be ****_huge_****, I promise.**


	3. Chapter 3

When I regained my sight, I was standing on a table, looking at the ceiling. The ceiling looked like any other, so I thought maybe I had somehow ended up on a table in the library.

I know; it was stupid to hope.

For just a moment, I thought perhaps the room was empty, it being so silent, and that I could maybe get down and go about my day like nothing had happened. A few seconds later, however, that particular option was rendered out of the question.

The room was suddenly flooded with shouting. Much of it, I did not understand, and only later would I realise that it was because most of the people shouting were doing so in languages that were not English. I looked down to see several people yelling at each other as they stood around the table I was positioned on. The table was much larger than I had thought it would be, which was needed, because there were easily twenty or twenty five people around the table, maybe more. Finally, after several minutes of arguing, a tall, blond man shouted above the rest.

"Enough! Zis fighting is getting us novhere," he yelled, then calmed when the others quieted, "und I fear zat we are scaring zeh girl." His accent was quite obviously German, though his English seemed fine.

He did seem quite familiar, as did the setting; but, as usual, I could not place where the feeling was coming from.

"Yeah, guys," a strange Italian-sounding man said. I say strange because he looked so happy compared to those around him, and also because there was no way he could see me; his eyes were closed. "We should all stop-a fighting and make _bella_ feel welcome!"

The other people standing around the table, who I noticed were mostly men, seemed mildly annoyed by the Italian's interjection, but they clearly either were intimidated by the German man or did not wish to scare me. The latter was certainly true, for, while the Italian was speaking, another blond man with bright green eyes gestured for me to climb down off of the table. I walked across the table towards him, attempting to dodge the strange assortment of trinkets on the table, stumbling several times before arriving in front of the man, he held out his hands and smiled kindly, though I could hear several others stifling laughs behind me. I grabbed his hands in mine and hopped down, stumbling as I landed. He caught me and steadied me though, guiding me to a chair.

"Sit down, poppet, and we can all talk." His voice sounded very British to me.

"Oh, Arzur, stop torturing ze poor girl. She should obviously sit by me so—" I felt a tug on my arm, and turned to see a guy, only slightly younger than the British man, with longer, somehow blonder hair and light blue eyes smiling (a bit creepily) down at me. From the sound of his voice, he was French, which would explain his outfit; it looked like he was wearing a dress.

"Shut up, Francis!" I looked back to the Englishman to see that the smile was gone, leaving a deep frown that distorted his handsome face. "I simply want her to sit down so that she may be introduced and we can get on with the meeting." Again, he took my hand and led me to the chair, gesturing for me to sit as he glared at the Frenchman, Francis, who went back to sit six or seven chairs away from the German guy, who paid him no attention. The Englishman, Arthur, I guess, stood to the left of my chair, which made me feel slightly awkward, and I shifted a little in my seat.

"Vell, now zat zat is finished" the German man said, "Vee should probably start vizz names. I am Ludvig, vhat is your name?" He looked at me expectantly, as did the others.

"Uuuhhh-ummm L-Lillian?" I looked at everyone, a bit embarrassed by my stuttering, and felt my face heat up. I was quite sure that my face was tomato red.

The others went around the table, saying their names in their various accents. Some of the accents, I knew. Antonio sounded like he came from Spain, while Ivan sounded Russian. I had already known where Ludwig, Francis, and Arthur came from because of their previous talking. I thought that Kiku Honda was Japanese, but I had never heard a Japanese person speak before except for on television, and could not be sure. The Italian from before was named Feliciano, and another Italian man who could have been his (much darker, evil, and reverse) twin was named Lovino. Many of the other accents were foreign to me (pun _definitely_ intended), though I was pretty sure that the man named Alfred was American, made perfectly clear when he introduced himself by saying, or rather _shouting_, "Hey, dude! I'm Alfred!" and smiling widely while winking.

It was only after the introductions, of which Alfred was last, that I realized why everyone seemed so familiar.

"Holy Roman Empire!" I gasped under my breath. No one seemed to hear me except for Arthur, who knelt by my chair to ask what was wrong. "You guys—I mean, you're all—" I could scarcely speak, I was so shocked.

"It's alright, go ahead," Arthur encouraged with a smile.

"Countries," I said finally. I watched as the smile slipped off of his face into a look of complete shock. "You're all countries." I looked around the table, seeing if anyone would deny it, but they all looked too shocked to say anything. "Everything makes so much more sense," I said, putting my elbows on the table and my head in my hands.

"Vhat do you mean, 'everyzing makes sense'?"

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**Duh, dun, duuun! This story is soooo weird, I know. I promise, though: it's going to pick up soon. Maybe two or three chapters, I think…Then we'll see just why Lillian's gotten trapped here. ;)**

**Hope you guys like this story. Read &amp; Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

The voice sounded German, but it was sharper than Ludwig's, a bit high pitched for a guy, I thought. It was too uncivilized to be Roderich's, so I was at a loss for who it was. I looked up from my hands and around the table, searching for the source, but I knew everyone there, and no one had a voice like that. I saw that everyone was glaring at me. Or, more specifically, at something over my head.

I then realized that there was someone missing from the table, someone who was present and overbearing in both the manga and anime versions of _hetalia. _I almost laughed (both from my own stupidity in not figuring it out earlier and because I knew things were going to get very interesting), but I knew I had to keep my cool if I wanted to escape any embarrassment. So I simply sat back in my chair and looked towards the ceiling. Of course, something was there. Or rather, some_one_. A someone who was smirking down at me.

"Gilbert, I presume? Or would you prefer 'Zeh Awesome Prussia'?" I asked with a smirk, perfectly imitating his voice. He looked so completely and utterly shocked that it made me giggle a bit, which eventually turned into full out laughter. Just when I was getting it under control, I would get a glimpse of his face, still frozen in shock, and start laughing again. Finally, I managed to stop. But only barely.

"Oh," I wheezed, "if you could see your face right now." I turned and looked up at him again, saying, "You look exactly like you did when you realized Elizabéta was a girl!"

The last remark made him, as well as Elizabéta, blush slightly, which he must not have appreciated, because his face suddenly turned _violent_. He stormed off to the corner, where there was an extra chair. I wondered why Arthur hadn't taken it, but let it go. Gilbert grabbed said chair and brought it over, wedging it between my chair and that of a man whom I assumed was Greece, given that he had woken up neither when the others were shouting nor when introductions were given.

When he got his chair situated, Gilbert turned to me, glaring only slightly while grinning his cruel grin. I expected him to say something degrading, or mean in _some_ way at least, but he only winked (which startled me a bit) and turned to his brother, gesturing and saying, "Please, continue viz your meeting."

"Vell, bruder," Ludwig replied, "Vee vur just introducing ourvselves to Lillian here. Vould you like to?"

"Vell," Gilbert said whilst turning to me and looking me over, "Seeing uz how zeh lady—Lillian, vahs it?—hazz already stated my name, I feel no need to do so. Vhat is next?" He turned back to the rest of them.

"Look," I said, standing, which subsequently made everyone turn to look at me. "This has been good and fun and all, but—" I attempted to back up to the door, intending to leave, but Arthur grabbed my hand.

"Where are you going?" he asked, obviously confused.

"Well, I just thought that I should leave you to your meeting. Don't get me wrong, I love you guys, and it was amazing to meet you all in person, but I really think I should go home now." Everyone looked at me really confusedly, and I naturally blushed from all of the attention, which, _of course_, made my eyes tear up and my voice break as I continued. "W-Why are you staring at me? Did I do something wrong? I can stay until the end of the meeting, if you really enjoy my company _that_ much, but then I really do need to go home."

The last part seemed to snap at least some of them out of it, and they exchanged looks. Finally, Alfred spoke up, but he didn't seem as excited as before. "Yeah, dude, you should totally stay for the meeting, but—"

"Then we will discuss what must happen," Arthur interrupted, looking at Alfred sharply. "For now, Lillian," he said, turning again towards me, with that gentlemanly smile of his, "please, sit back down."

I did as I was asked, and he resumed his position beside my chair, still holding my hand. I felt slightly less awkward now, though I could practically feel a hole being burned into the right side of my skull from the force of Gilbert's stare.

Finally, the others snapped out of it and got on with the meeting. They talked about a variety of things, and there were more than a few arguments on some of the topics. The meeting was similar to those I had seen in _Hetalia_, yet different in many ways. Some of the countries themselves were completely different than their personalities in my world, but others fit the bill quite nicely. Their accents were spot on. And by spot on, I of course mean that they were the worst accents I have ever heard _in my life_.

I should also say that, after I had realized who they were, a veil seemed to be lifted. This allowed me to see everything as I had not before. Where before I had seen everything as if it were truly in my own world, I could now see that they were all truly caricatures. I saw things as they had looked in the anime/manga.

I wondered why I had not seen them as cartoons before, but then realized that it was probably just my mind not accepting what was there. I had heard of this happening in several circumstances, and was sure it was the case here.

As I slowly came to see things as they were, the characteristics fell into place. Feliciano's and Lovino's respective hair curls became visible, as did Alfred's and Roderich's. Natalia's hair bow become much poofier, and Ivan developed a strange, almost malicious aura around him. Berwald's face had lines down it, making him look _way_ meaner, and, had I not known the background, I would have thought he was either really angry or just really mean; as it was, I thought he looked rather adorable, and looked away from him quickly, shocked by the thoughts running through my mind. Arthur's eyebrows became larger, which almost made me laugh, but I didn't. For some weird reason, Francis' shirt became significantly more unbuttoned under what was now obviously his trademark cloak/cape thing.

I noticed a younger man sitting across from me, just looking straight ahead. As everything else became cartoonish, so did he. He became slightly see-through, and he was holding a small polar bear. I realized he must be Matthew, or Canada. He seemed perfectly content to sit in silence, smiling as he listened to his fellow nations argue. In return, no one noticed him at all, and no one asked for his opinion on anything. I managed to catch his eye, and he smiled at me, but when I smiled back, he blushed a little and looked away.

At some point, I realized that I was still holding Arthur's hand, and loosened my grip so that my hand would fall out. When it did, however, I was quite shocked to find that my arm looked suspiciously like a cartoon arm. Not that it looked bad, but I dare you to keep calm when _you_ start turning into a cartoon.

I slowly came to realize that my entire body was a cartoon version of itself. Perfect skin, with no blemishes or even hair. My fingernails were longer than they had ever been before, and they looked perfectly manicured, not a single bitten one in the whole bunch. My stomach looked significantly smaller, though my chest's size stayed the same, which embarrassed me greatly. _Fantastic, _I thought, _one more reason for people to stare. _On the bright side, my legs looked longer and skinnier, which I took to mean that I was now taller. My hair looked way longer—almost to my waist, I thought—and just a bit shinier—not from the usual greasiness, just in a healthy way. I wondered if I looked prettier in the face like this, and decided I must; anime people are always pretty, and it's not like I could look any worse than I had before. _I will have to look in a mirror before I leave,_ I thought excitedly.

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**Hey guys! (I heard that in Russia they end all their greetings with exclamation points—cool, huh?) Hope you're enjoying the story so far! I haven't gotten many reviews…Anyway, I should have the next chapter up within the week so keep reading! Please review?**

**Love,**

**Anya**


	5. Chapter 5

Eventually, the meeting ended, and the others slowly filed out until it was only me, Alfred and Matthew, Arthur and Francis, Yao Wang and Kiku Honda Kiku, Roderich, Ludwig and Gilbert, Antonio, Feliciano and Lovino, Ivan and Natalia, and Berwald and Tino. Matthew had moved significantly closer to my seat, as had Alfred, though I wasn't sure why. Gilbert had taken it upon himself to wake Greece, whose name I now knew to be Heracles. He left right away, presumably to find somewhere else to finish his nap.

We were now, all seventeen of us, arranged around the table. Don't ask me why these particular people decided to stay in the room, because their reasons, quite frankly, escape me. I was in the middle, and to my left, going outward, was: Arthur, Alfred, Matthew, Ludwig, Feliciano, Lovino, Antonio, and Yao. On my other side, or to my right, going outwards, was: Gilbert, Francis, Kiku, Roderich, Ivan, Natalia, Tino, and Berwald.

"Now, Lillian," Arthur said gently. "What was it you were trying to say before the meeting?"

I had to think for a moment. So many things were going on in my head at that moment, and some of it was so jumbled I couldn't understand it. Finally, I remembered.

"Oh," I said, "oh, right." I looked at all of them in turn, then continued. "I really think that I should be going home now. My friends and dorm mates are probably missing me right about now, and—" I stopped short; they were all looking at me sympathetically. Even Berwald, whom I have never seen have any expression other than one of either indifference or creepiness. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" I was starting to get frustrated, practically crying. If one more person looked at me like that, I was going to—

"Lillian, poppet," Arthur interrupted my thoughts. I looked at him, and I guess my emotions were obvious, because he reached out and put his hand over mine. "I'm so sorry." I almost asked him why, but something about his expression told me he wasn't finished. "You cannot go home."

"What?" I said, almost laughing. It was a nervous laugh, though. It was a laugh that said, _Please, tell me you're joking. Tell me that this is not happening._ It sunk in after a few minutes, though. "What do you mean I can't go home? _Why not_?" I asked with tears in my eyes, in my voice. I turned my hand over and returned Arthur's grip, for support. At that moment, it was the only thing keeping me from outright sobbing.

It was Ivan who answered my question. "What Artur is trying to say," he said, his purple eyes shining faintly, "is dat you are a part of our world now." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Dis is your home now, Lillian. Even if you could return to dat world, which you cannot, no one would remember you, even if dey could see you, which dey would not."

"What do you mean, I am a part of this world now?" I asked.

"Well, dude," Alfred said, drawing my attention, "I guess what we're trying to say is that, well—"

"You're a country, _bella,_" Feliciano blurted out.

"Who do you dink she belongs to?" Ivan asked, smiling sweetly.

"'Belongs to'? I don't 'belong to' anyone, Ivan," I spat angrily, my sadness forgotten. Beside me, Arthur looked mildly disappointed about the direction the conversation was heading. Everyone looked slightly uncomfortable, and several were shooting me nervous looks that said, _Be careful where you step, girl. You don't want Ivan to hurt you, do you? _I wasn't looking, though. I was busy trying to keep my voice from either rising or cracking. I even summoned up what little strength I had into shooting a glare his way. "I am perfectly capable of holding my own, and I _do not appreciate _people saying things that discredit that." I meant to say it calmly, in a matter-of-fact way, but it came out as sounding vain and extremely rude. My words clearly had an effect on him; he looked shocked that someone would _dare_ speak to him like that. I was instantly (though begrudgingly) afraid of hm. "I'm sorry. I did not been to be so disrespectful. I only—"

Finally, Ivan shook his head, silencing me. Then he smiled brightly at me, saying, "Sorry? My dear, why on Erdt are you sorry?" I was surprised, to say the least, and then he continued. "No one has spoken to me like dat in a very long time. It is…refreshing." He turned to Alfred, grinning. "Finally, someding good from your country, Alfredka. I like her."

Alfred puffed his chest with pride, but then Ivan's words seemed to click, prompting a "Hey!" from Alfred's lips. Everyone had to laugh at that.

Once everyone settled down again, we sat in a comfortable silence for several minutes. Finally, I gathered my strength to ask my only question; the only question anyone ever had. "So, what now?"

Everyone looked at me for a moment before Kiku spoke. "Werr," he said, "you wirr have to be taken care of by someone." He looked a bit nervous. "Normarry, you wourd riv wis seh country you came from, but—"

"But what?" Alfred interrupted, standing. "Why can't she live with me?" I did not understand it, myself, but I _did_ think that Alfred's reaction was a little over the top.

"I still don't understand what is happening," I said. The others turned to me. "Why am I a country? _How _am I a country? I'm not immortal, and I've never even been more than a hundred miles from home. Why am I even here?" The others seemed slightly bothered by my questions, but no one answered. "Besides," I said, "I wasn't even aware that there was any land left in the world to _make_ a country. Isn't it all claimed already?"

Roderich answered me. Or, rather, tried to. "Vell, vee can't tell you vhy you are here, but now zat you are, you _are_ immortal. I have sensed it, hasn't anyvun else?" The others all nodded, and he continued. "As to your uzzer qvestion, vell," he seemed nervous to continue, but he appeared to steel himself a bit. "It is possible zat you are un 'country vizzin un country', as your…muzzerland vuzz to Britain." He looked down after saying his piece. He did not speak again, whether to elaborate or comment on other people's opinions.

Everyone looked much more somber after that, and I slowly came to realize why. "Is that a bad thing?" I asked. "Does that mean I'll have to fight Alfred? Or are there countries within countries elsewhere who don't…rebel?"

Arthur looked at me sympathetically. "There have been countries that have been territories of other countries," he said, "but…as far as I have ever heard, they have always fought for independence, either gaining it, or…"

"Not," I said. "They've disappeared, haven't they?" No one would meet my eyes, and that was answer enough. I took a deep breath, and then let it out in a long sigh. Then I said, "No."

Everyone's heads snapped up in my direction. No one said anything for what seemed like forever. Of course, it was probably only a couple of minutes before Tino spoke up. "Maybe it woo'n't happen like dat, Lillian. Maybe—"

"That's not what I meant," I stopped him. My voice wanted badly to break, but I was determined to keep it together.

"What _do_ you mean?" Arthur asked. I turned towards him. It was easier to pretend like I was going to tell just one person, rather than nearly twenty.

"I mean," I said, "I'm not going to do this. I'm not going to stay here and become a country just so that one day I have to fight Alfred." I was tearing up. I could barely see through the tears, but I didn't sob. I _couldn't_, because I knew if I let that much go, I would never stop crying.

"Well, maybe you could be like me," a voice said. It sounded British, but it was younger than Arthur. "You look pretty young, and you seem to be really nice." I tried to locate the voice, but it was a little difficult to do so, what with being practically blind. I knew who it was, though. Of course I did.

"Well, hello, Peter," I said, wiping my eyes. I turned to my left, and there he was. "So nice of you to join us. What do you mean, I could be like you?"

Peter smiled before replying, "I mean, you could be country and not a country, like I am." He shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh," I said, "You mean, I could be a…micronation?"

"Yeah," he said. "I don't really like Arthur—" he sent a glare at said person "—but we've never gone to war. If you were a micronation, then you, me, and some other micronations will be great friends." He smiled and winked before walking over to sit at the other end of the table, between Natalia and Wang Yao.

I turned back to Arthur, grinning. He looked confused, which made sense. None of the other countries acknowledged Sealand as a country, so he was pretty much ignored. I gripped his hands, bringing his attention back to me. "Is that okay? Can I—can I do that?"

"Well, I don't know—"

I felt a hand on my shoulder, then heard Ivan's voice, startling me a little. I hadn't even realized he had gotten up, let alone seen him walk almost all the way around the table. "I dink dat is great idea. I love duh micronations, and dis young lady will make an excellent addition."

"Thank you, Ivan." I said it quietly, but I really did mean it. "It's been a long time since someone said something that nice to me." I blushed a little, and gave a breathy laugh. "And I cannot _believe_ that I just said that to _Russia_." Some of the others laughed at that, but many of them just looked sad. "Well," I said, "it's settled. I'll be a micronation, and everyone will be happy, right?"

The others exchanged looks, and I could tell that no one was going to say what everyone was thinking: There's no guarantee that I wouldn't one day want to be a full on nation, no guarantee that Alfred and I would never go to war. No one said it, though. Everyone just nodded. Arthur looked back at me and squeezed my hand, smiling a bit sadly.

Then, Berwald stood. "Well, now we need to figoor oo't where she will lee've. I wooh'd suggest—"

"What do you mean, dude?" Alfred stood as well. "She can totally live with me!" he said, then seemed to realize what his words implied, because his face turned a little red. "I-I mean, since she's my little sister, and all."

"As much as I love Alfred," I said. "Why can't I just live on my own?"

"Well," Antonio started, "maybe you could live on your own someday, but—"

"Even micronations must start somewhere," Francis finished.

"Fine," I said, shrugging. It didn't really matter to me; chances were, I'd be dead in a few weeks, anyway. I was pretty okay with it; the circumstance of my previous life had numbed me, erasing any fear, if ever there was one, I'd ever had of death or dying. "So, I guess I'll stay with Alfred until—"

"Vell," Ludwig interrupted, "I don't know. Maybe you should live vizz someone—"

"Someone what, Ludwig?" Alfred was obviously offended. "Older? More mature? She's _my_ little sister, she should live in _my_ house."

"How do you know zat she is truly _your_ little sister?" Roderich asked, indignant. "She duz not vreally look like you. Perhaps she vahz simply born in zeh wrong country. You yourself were born in un landmass founded by Bervhald. Zhen Arzzur claimed you uz his _little bruzzer_, and you vheren't even hizz to claim."

"Bring up the past, why don't you, Roderich?" Arthur asked. He turned to Roderich with a deadly expression, and I could tell that the two were not far from a fight. Berwald had sat back down and was just looking at the table a bit sadly, not really interested in the argument, but I knew that I had to do preventive maintenance.

"Hey," I said. "That was a long time ago. You guys have grown up since then, or so I would like to think." They all looked a little guilty. This was obviously going nowhere, so I decided to change the subject. "Anyway, what would it mean if I was 'born in the wrong country'? Where would I go? Where am I from?" I looked around, trying to find any resemblances between me and anyone else. There weren't many. My features are so mundane, so average, that I shared at least one thing with nearly everyone in the room.

"Well," Natalia spoke for the first time, with an accent just slightly different from that of her brother, "you could be part of almost any group of countries. You would have to get an excavation done to determine to whom you are related, and den—"

"I would live in their house," I finished. She nodded grimly. I sighed. "Well, I guess, if it's the only way. And," I said gloomily, "if it means nobody will fight over whose 'little sister' I am, I'm willing to do it. I assume, by 'excavation', you mean a DNA test?" She looked confused by the question, so I turned back to Arthur.

However, he looked just as confused as Natalia, as did everyone else. I sighed. "But _of course_," I stated drily. "None of you have any idea what that means. Well, okay." I looked around, then said, "So, who will I live with until the results come?"

The others looked at each other before Ludwig answered. "Vell," he said, "I guess zat I could take you in, but—"

Gilbert, still sitting next to me, interrupted him. "Don't you vorry, _little bruder._" He looked at me and grinned. "I'll take ziss cutie of un nuisance off of your hands." He looked back at his brother, who looked more than a little suspicious as to whatever Gilbert was up to. I, myself, was very confused. Gilbert, however, did not seemed to vex himself about that. "She can live in my side of zeh house," he said. Then, seeming to remember something, he turned back to me. "Unless zeh lady hazz un objection?"

His red eyes were creeping me out a little. "Well," I said, "I don't know. Maybe I should stay with someone—"

Gilbert laughed. "Someone vhat? Less _scary_?" He looked at me with a smirk on his face. "I should have known you'd be too scared. I mean, I am zeh most awesome country zare is. Anyvun vould be afraid to be in my presence for longer zan necessary. Really, zat's okay. I zot maybe you vur okay, but if you're too scared, I guess—"

"Hush, Gilbert," I said. "First of all, I know exactly what you're trying to do, and it won't work. You cannot _possibly _make me feel worse about myself than I already do." He looked a little shocked, like no one had caught him in his trick before. Then, just for a moment, he looked a little sad, like he was sorry I didn't think higher of myself; however, that look was quickly gone. Whatever. I didn't really care. I bet you're thinking something like, _Sure, Lillian. Keep telling yourself that._ Please. I didn't need, nor have I ever since needed, his pity. "Second of all," I continued, "I didn't say no because I am afraid of you. I'm too empty to be afraid of anything as stupid as another person. Sure, if you were chasing me with a chainsaw like a maniac, then I'd be afraid. But just being in someone's presence is no longer enough to scare me, so you'll have to try harder than that." He looked like he might_ really _like to get the opportunity to try harder to scare me, but I continued. "Anyway, I said no because I'm sure other people have an opinion on the subject, and the decision of many is better than the idea of one." Then, I looked around for anyone to help me out, even a little. However, no such luck. Everyone either seemed just fine with it or too shocked that the idea was even out there or so upset about the little things I had let out about myself that they weren't paying attention. Some even looked downright amused, like they were interested to see what would come of it. "Fine," I said, looking back to Arthur. "So, what now?" I repeated

As if in answer, my vision went blurry, then faded to black.

* * *

**Hi guys!**

**So, here's chapter 7! I know that the description of everyone around the table seems really weird, but I really couldn't think of how else to say it. I just got it all out here, rather than placing the description at weird places in the rest of the chapter. Sorry if it's a little boring! :(**

**Anyway, get ready for a weird chapter next time! (You get to see the Nordics, I'll tell you that!)**

**;)**

**Happy reading!**

**Anya**


	6. Chapter 6

_What is happening? _I thought. _This has never happened to me before. _It was true. I have fainted several times in my life, sometimes even passed out from exhaustion. I have always had a reason, though. This? I had no idea what was going on. I didn't have a long time to wonder, however; almost immediately, I was—this gonna sound so cheesy—I was blinded by a vivid vision.

It took me a moment to realize that it _was_ a vision that was blinding me. At first, all I knew was that there was a light in my eye. _Probably a flashlight. Maybe the others are checking to see if I suddenly dropped dead. _But that didn't make any sense. I could still feel my body, and my eyes weren't even open.

Then, I became aware of something else. The light was coming from a weird direction. It almost seemed to be coming _up _and into my eyes. I've only ever seen light from that angle in one type of situation. When the realization hit me, I almost smiled.

_Snow. It's snowing! Where am I? _I wasn't home or at the University, and as far as I know, it does not snow in conference rooms. Once my (vision) eyes adjusted to the glare, I was shocked. I was right about the snow; the stuff was _everywhere_. For as far as I could see in front of me (which was actually very far), there was nothing but white. There were trees to my left, as well as behind me, and they were covered in snow and ice crystals. Not very far away, maybe three or four hundred yards to my right, I could see mountains, also covered in snow. In front of me, there was nothing. There was just that long stretch of land that I could not see the end of. The sunshine glancing off of the snow was really beautiful, but as far as I could see, there wasn't a single person, nor were there any foot prints. _Why am I here?_ I thought. Then it happened.

From the corner of my eye, I saw something moving in the forest to my left. When I turned, I saw that it was moving quickly. It wasn't so much an object, though; more like a shadow, but I thought it was moving closer. Sure enough, a few moments later something burst out of the trees. I jumped out of the way as it ran past me. Then I realized: _Duh_. This was a vision; it would have passed right through me anyway.

As whatever it was got closer, it started moving faster, like the forest was slowing it down before. When it was about ten or twenty feet away from me, it spun around to face the forest, to face me. It was then that I realized that the 'thing' was a boy.

He looked around my age, around twenty or twenty-one, maybe even twenty-two or -three. That's what he generally looked like, but…his clothes were not what I would think a college boy would wear. I mean, maybe if we were in the fifth century…BC. It looked good, though. It basically looked like a bunch of leather over fur-lined cloth. Simple, but effective; he was obviously warm—I could almost see the sweat on his forehead and neck from his physical exertion—and the leather seemed thick enough to protect him in a fight. I've always loved older clothes. And movies. And books. And…Well, you get the idea. His face was just a little bit off, too. Not that he was ugly or anything. Quite the opposite, he was very handsome. However, his hair was a little longer than what I would have considered 'normal', and it had a weird little curl in the back. The curl seemed strangely familiar, but I'll get to that later. His hair was even longer than Francis', but only by a couple of inches, and it was a strange yet pretty color; almost a cross between silver and a light coffee color. He had what can only be described as bangs, which were held back with a leather band. His eyes were a light, icy blue, with dark eyebrows above.

After maybe two or three minutes, there was rustling in the forest, so I turned around to see five boys running out from the trees, laughing and yelling to each other. They were obviously related, but their appearances were each unique. There were two that looked to be the oldest of the five; they looked around seventeen, with eyes a slightly darker blue than the first boy and lighter eyebrows, and they both had yellow-blond hair, although one of them had his sticking out in all directions, which matched the huge, wild smile on his face, while the other, more serious one, wore his relatively flat. Another of the boys looked just slightly younger, yet somehow more serious, with dark blue eyes and pale blond hair that had a curl in the back. On the right side of his hair was what looked like a cross shaped hair clip, but I couldn't be sure. The fourth boy was younger than hair-clip boy, and he was the one smiling brightest and laughing loudest. His eyes looked to be between a dark blue and a deep purple, though at some moments they looked like a light brown color, and he was wearing a cute white beret (which made no sense: if it was, in fact, BC times, berets had not been invented, so how did he have one?). The last boy was the youngest, made obvious by the fact that the comments from the others pretty much revolved around teasing him. He had silvery-white hair and bright purple eyes, and he didn't look very happy. Instead, he had the same expression as the middle boy: none whatsoever. They were all dressed in clothes from the same period as the older boy, but the clothes under the leather were all different colors. All of the languages they were shouting were foreign to me, but my mind somehow translated their words into English, though the accents were evident.

I quickly realized what I was looking at: the Nordics having _fun_. It blew my mind; I had only ever seen two of them even mildly interested in having fun, and the others didn't seem like they ever had fun. Here, though? It looked as if they did this kind of thing all the time.

"Come on, Emil!" I turned to see Tino and Lukas practically on top of the older guy, who was grinning widely. A leather bag fell out of his hands as the boys tackled him. Tino was shouting through his laughter. "Get deh bag! Get it! Get deh bag!" he squawked as they all fell down.

Emil dove for the bag, landing on top of it. Mathias and Berwald jumped on top of him, trying to wrestle the bag from his hands. Emil wouldn't let go, even though Berwald was glaring away at him and Mathias was obviously using all of his strength and _clearly _cheating by trying to squeeze snow into Emil's grip to loosen it. Suddenly, Emil let go, and the older boys fell back, their grip slipping from the bag, causing it to fly up and backwards. Emil jumped on top of them, holding them down as Lukas, rushing over from tackling the older guy, and grabbed the bag from the ground. "I got it!" he yelled, the most excited I had ever heard him. "I got it!" Then, he turned and sprinted back toward the tree line as Tino and Emil cheered him on.

"Go, Lukas," they shouted, "Go!"

Then, Emil yelled, "Hurry!" His eyes were wide; he had as much expression in that moment as he'd never had before. "Before—"

It all happened so fast, I almost missed it. But my vision was sharper in the vision, almost hawk like, and I _saw_.

Lukas was only ten or twelve yards from the forest when I caught sight of Mathias and Berwald in the corner of my eye. They were both looking at the trees with smiles on their faces. Their smiles were very different, though. Mathias' smile was full of joy, as usual, whereas Berwald's looked kind of creepy. They both looked like they knew something I didn't know. I was pretty sure that, had Tino not been burying his face in the snow, the older guy's face would have been lit up with a smile, too. I snapped my head back towards Lukas.

He was only about three yards away, now. Two and a half. Two. One and a half. Suddenly, when he was just one yard away from the tree line, one more stride away from what I assumed would win his team whatever game they were playing, something shot from the trees like a bat out of hell. It tackled Lukas, ripping the bag from his hands. Then, it jumped back up, running the opposite direction, moving a lot faster than the other boys had been, towards the mountains. My sharpened eyesight allowed me to follow the object all the way to its destination: the mountains. By the time it was halfway there, I had realized that 'it' wasn't an 'it' at all; 'it' was really a 'she'.

Soon, the boys were up and chasing after her, Lukas, Tino, and Emil running the most frantically; they looked desperate to get to her before she reached the mountains. _I guess that's where they have to go to win, _I thought. The older guys were just jogging, laughing at the younger ones, like they were amused that they were trying at all—it was obvious they'd never catch up; she moved at triple, maybe even quadruple their speed. I followed, sprinting to catch up with the elders, watching in front of me. The girl reached the mountains, lightly jumping up a series of step-like ledges until she was about a hundred feet up, where she stood on a cliff hanging in midair. She waited until the younger guys were at the base of the mountain before cupping her hands around her mouth and howling loudly. "Aaawwoooohhh!" she hollered.

The older guys let out an "Awooh!" of their own, gesturing for her to climb back down. She did, and the oldest guy picked her up and put her on his shoulders. She laughed and called out, "Anudder win! Whoa!" Her accent was a weird combination of Russian and the Scandinavian languages. It was really beautiful, if slightly scary.

Mathias called out, "Well, of course we won, Uralia." He grinned up at her, then reached up to take her hand. "We _are_ the coolest ones out there."

Lukas, Emil, and Tino gathered around, sulking a bit, but laughing all the same. "Not on your life, Mathias," Lukas called out. "Uralia is the one who won the game _for_ you, and she's closer to our ages than your guys'." His grin turned a little sinister as he said, "We would've totally won this time if she weren't here."

The girl, Uralia, stood on top of the older guy's shoulders. Then, she did a perfect flip up and over the group of guys. They all whipped around to see her land perfectly on her feet, facing them. She smiled and looked at the guys, then laughed before adopting a serious expression. "Listen up," she said. "I'm not going to be ashosheeated with anyone who can't take a loss. If you guys"—she pointed to the younger ones—"are going to whine about it, I suggest you idur get bedder or stop playing." They all nodded solemnly. She was trying to keep a straight face, but it was obvious that she'd given this speech before, and she ended up laughing anyway, causing the others to join in. Even Berwald was rolling on the ground.

While she'd been talking, I managed to get a good look at her for the first time. She was very beautiful, though she didn't look anything like the Nordics. She was short, but still over five feet tall—maybe five four or five five—taller than the younger guys, but not even close to her teammates' heights. Her hair was a dark brown, practically black, startling in contrast with that of the guys'. It flowed all the way down to just above her knees; it was held back by a leather band similar to that of the elder guy. Her eyes, too, were different from the others'; they were black pools, not even a little blue, though, when the light caught them, they looked slightly purple. It wasn't a flat black, by any means; it had a certain depth to it, like her eyes could suck you in and never let you go. It was beautiful. She was skinny, as far as I could tell. This, actually, was not very much; she, too was wearing a similar outfit to the boys, which covered her whole body and made her seem bigger than she was. As I kept looking at her, I realized something else. She looked like a taller, prettier, slightly older version of—

My thoughts were interrupted by a shriek of laughter. By the time I looked over, they were all laughing even harder, laying in the snow together. Finally, they stopped, and, getting up, started a snowball fight. They were all going to be on teams; Uralia, Tino, and the elder guy were captains, so they got to choose their partner, and everyone wanted to be on Uralia's team. "Come on," I heard Berwald say, and turned to see him pleading with his eyes. He looked kind of cute when he did that; his face didn't look so scrunched up and angry. "You must be on my team, Uralia!" She was just smiling at him, and he finally gave up on the begging. "You're always on either the eldest or youngest one's team. Shouldn't you at least help one of the middles?" He walked up to stand next to her, throwing an arm across her shoulders affectionately, and she smiled up at him, blushing heavily. "Besides," he said, smiling, "I'm older than you, so you should do what I say." Her expression immediately became irritated; they'd obviously been in the age argument before. She pushed him away, and both her action and expression combined to make Berwald laugh, which made her expression soften. "Seriously, Uralia," he said, "be on my team?"

She looked like she was considering it, but then she got a mischievous look on her face. "Maybe I will," she said, and Berwald moved back to her side, putting his hand on her arm and looking at the other boys with a smug expression. She looked up at him, the sly expression still on her face. "Maybe," she said, making Berwald glance at her with slightly narrowed eyes, "if, and only if—" she paused, looking around at the other boys "—you call Finny your wife from here on out." She turned and winked at Tino, and his face blushed scarlet. She looked back up at Berwald, who was glaring down at her. She was obviously trying not to flinch, working to keep her face light and smiling. "Well," she said, "what's it going to be? Do you want to win dat bad?" she laughed. "You have to want it, Berwald." The older guy was trying hard not to laugh; I was waiting for him to pass out from lack of oxygen, his face was so blue.

Finally, Berwald threw her arm away from himself, nearly making her fall over. Seeing her toppling, his expression became gentle once again, and he barely reached out his hand in time to catch her before she hit the ground. "I'm so sorry, Uralia," he said.

"Yeah, sure, Berwald," she replied, rolling her eyes like it was no big deal. This had obviously happened before. "I know you didn't mean it." She kept her voice light, but she wouldn't look at him, and I'm pretty sure only myself and the eldest saw her expression break for just a second. The eldest boy's expression went from holding back laughter to holding back anger in a split second. Of course, in that split second, the girl's hurt expression disappeared, and she turned back to Berwald with a carefree expression carefully back in place. After a moment, she turned back to face the others. "Anyway," she said, her carefree expression no longer needing to be faked when she turned away from Berwald. "Since Berwald—" her voice cracked a little, but, again, no one but the oldest boy and I seemed to notice "—doesn't have what it takes to be on my team," she said, looking around at the other boys, "I guess I'll be widd duh youngest. Come on, Lukas, Emil. Let's show deez guys." The boys looked immensely glad that they got to be with her. They walked over to her, and they huddled together, discussing strategies. The eldest looked at them before trying to decide who to pick to be on his team. He was obviously torn between Berwald and Mathias.

Finally, Uralia looked up from her team's conference. "Come on, Scandia," she called out to the older guy, "Pick someone, already!" She was teasing him, and everyone knew it. They were all grinning at this point. It looked…amazing. Happy.

The guy, Scandia, I guess, finally laughed and said, "Sure ting, _little sister_." His accent was somehow both Scandinavian accents combined, and his voice was very deep. His comment seemed to make Uralia angry, but not too much, because she started laughing midway through the glare she was giving him. Scandia picked Mathias, so Berwald and Tino were the last team. They all started throwing snowballs and yelling and laughing at each other as the vision faded out.

* * *

**Hi!**

**Yes, I know the vision is weird.**

**Yes, they are really supposed to talk like that.**

**Yes, that's the right name for him.**

**No, this is not SuFin.**

**Like it? Tell me if you don't, I'll try to help fix it.**

**Happy reading!**

**Anya**


	7. Chapter 7

"…lian. Lillian. Lillian!" It took me a moment to realize that it was my name being spoken. It took me several ore minutes to remember where I was and how to respond.

I opened my eyes, immediately finding a pair of bright green ones staring into mine with an exorbitant amount of concern. I felt sixteen other pairs of eyes on me, but I focused on Arthur first. I was still in my chair, though it had been turned so that he could look me straight in the eye. As soon as my eyes had opened, his hands dropped from where they had been on my shoulders, and his expression went from worried to relieved. As I looked around, I saw everyone's expression go through the same transition when they saw my eyes open. However, I noticed that a few of them, including Gilbert, Natalia, and Lovino, tried to hide their caring expressions behind ones of indifference.

I caught sight of Matthew looking at me, and he said, "W-what was th-that, L-Lillian?" He looked genuinely scared for my well-being; it made me want to cry.

"I-I don't know, Matthew," I said, turning my chair back around to face the table and putting my head in my hands. "I just don't know." There was a pause, and I could feel everyone hesitating; then Arthur spoke.

"What happened?" he asked. "What do you remember?"

I tried to answer him as best I could. "I remember sitting here, talking about what was going to happen to me and where I was going to stay. I remember asking what was going to happen next, and then my vision cut off." I looked over at him, and he nodded, encouraging me to continue. "Suddenly, I was somewhere else."

"Where were you?" Antonio asked. I looked over at him. If I just looked at one person at a time, if I only looked at the person I was speaking to, I could get through any difficult conversation, I knew.

"I'm not sure," I told him. "It could have been anywhere, though I suspect that I was not anywhere southern." I gave a little smirk.

"Why do you say dat?" Wang Yao asked. He looked pretty confused.

I looked over at him and grinned, saying, "Well, for starters, there was a lot of snow on the ground, and I'm pretty sure it had been there for a long time." He just blushed and looked at the table. I felt a little bad, and would have said something to make him feel better, but then Gilbert spoke.

"Vell, vhat happened next?" he asked, pulling my attention over to him. I thought about telling him off for his rudeness, but then shrugged it off. _What's the point? _I thought. _One comment isn't going to fix him._

"Well," I said, then proceeded to relay the vision to them. I didn't leave anything out. I told about how I figured out who was there, the clothes they were wearing, what time period it seemed to be, the mysterious Scandia and Uralia characters, how no one else could see me. I talked about how they all joked, what _exactly_ they said, how much Uralia looked like...well, _me_. I don't know how long I talked for, and afterwards everyone sat quietly.

Everyone looked a bit confused, like they couldn't understand why I would have that vision. Some were looking from my face to Berwald's, back to my face then to Tino's and back, all in a circle. It was enough to make me uncomfortable, but the two Nordics that were present looked too shocked to even notice the scrutiny. I was embarrassed, my face heating and my eyes tearing up. _Why did I even say anything?_ I thought. _They probably think I'm stupid._

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Gilbert let out a shaky laugh. I turned towards him, and my anger seemed to egg him on, because his ever-present smug expression was back in place. He looked over at me and smirked. "You had me going zare, girl," he looked at me with that arrogant look on his face, but his eyes were darting around the table, like he was nervous. "I zot you vur seevreeush for un second." He examined my face for a few minutes, and whatever he saw there must have freaked him out, because his expression went from smug to scared in about five seconds. It was weird; it wasn't so much that he was afraid of what my vision implied, but rather…what it meant for _me_. It almost seemed like he was scared _for_ me.

Everyone was looking at me, and I turned my chair so that I could meet their eyes one at a time. I knew what my face looked like; I've had enough practice lying to...certain types of people...to know the difference between my _fake_ convincing face and my _real _convincing face. I was using the latter here.

As I looked around the table, everyone seemed to get a little nervous. Finally, after I had looked at everyone, I went back to staring at the table. Arthur put a hand on my shoulder. "Well," he said hesitantly, "as long as you are telling the truth..." He looked around before looking at me with an expression that was both curious and nervous. "You are, yes?"

"Yeah," I said, nodding.

* * *

**Hi guys!**

**Sorry this chapter took so long. I had an idea for how I wanted it to go, but then I ended up taking out half of it...yeah. Hope you like how it turned out!**

**I don't know when I'll be able to post again, but I'll try to keep it under a week.**

**Hope you're having a nice April! Pull any good pranks yesterday? :)**

**Happy Spring!**

**Happy reading!**

**Anya**


	8. Chapter 8

Then I realized. "Wait. Who is Scandia? And Uralia? I've never heard of them. Are they related? Are they still around? Are they related to the Nordics? Why—"

Berwald raised a hand to silence me, but it was Ivan who spoke. He had tears in his eyes, and, for once, he didn't cringe when Natalia put her hand on his arm. "Uralia was—she was—she was my little sister. On her udder side, Scandia was her big brudder. We weren't related, do," he said quickly, seeing my questioning expression. "Scandia and I weren't related in duh least. I only ever met him once or twice before—ow!" Natalia had tightened her grip enough to hurt, but he'd already said enough.

"Oh," I whispered. "Is he dead?" The Nordics and the Russians looked hesitant. Finally, Natalia looked over at me with a pained expression.

"We don't know," she said.

I was sure I hadn't heard her right. "You don't know?" No one said anything. "How do you _not know_?" my voice was rising. I needed to calm down. I took a deep breath, rubbing my temples. "Okay, okay," I said. "Even if he's—" I swallowed "—dead, who's Uralia? I know she was Ivan and Scandia's little sister, but still…" I was a bit on edge as I said, "Did anyone else know her?" Everyone exchanged looks with each other, and, one by one, everyone raised their hand. "Everyone?" I asked. Antonio nodded, having looked up from the paper rose he was creating when the story ended.

"Uralia was a nice girl," he said, a sweet smile on his lips. It did not escape my notice that he used past tense. "She loved to travel. She was always visiting someone, hardly ever at home."

"Yah," Wang Yao said. "She lahved warm places. She always was complaining dat her house was too drafty." He looked so happy to be thinking about her. As I looked around, I saw that everyone had the same thoughtful expression.

"Well," I said, "I wish I could have met her." I looked back down at the table. "She sounds wonderful." I wondered if she would have liked me, but then thought, _Probably not. She seemed really nice, and I'm not exactly—_

I realized a lot of them were staring at me. "What?" I asked. "Is there something on my face?" Everyone chuckled, but only for a moment. Then the mood got serious again. "Seriously, guys. Why are you staring at me?" I looked around the table, but no one would meet my eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Vell," Roderich spoke up, "it huz recently become evident zat Uralia izz…not uz…lost uz previoushly zot." He looked around, like he wanted someone else to speak up.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Where is she? She's _not_ dead? Can I meet her?" I was growing more excited with every question, and I didn't really notice the looks being exchanged.

"Vell," Ludwig said, "you kind uv alvreddi huv."

"What do you mean?" I asked again. "I think I'd remember meeting someone like her. And what do you mean 'kind of'?" I looked at everyone in turn. Though they all looked really happy, it didn't seem like anyone was going to come forth with any information. Finally, after several minutes of silence, I just put my head on my arms, which were crossed on the table. "Well," I said, "this conversation has tired me out. I suggest that you discuss where to go from here amongst yourselves, and wake me up when you're ready to tell me the truth." Then, I closed my eyes and promptly fell asleep, and, for the first time in months, I didn't have a single nightmare: only peaceful dreams full of snow.

* * *

**Hey guys!**

**Told you I'd be back soon! Hope y'all had a good weekend.**

**I just gave blood this morning, so I'm a ****_little_**** bit out of it as I type this.**

**I know the chapter's short, but I promise next one will be longer.**

**Happy reading!**

**Anya**


	9. Chapter 9

I opened the door, which led into a long hallway. There wasn't any indication of which way anything was, so I just used the eenie-meanie method. I went left out of the bedroom door, padding silently down the hall and looking around myself; I counted all of the doors, memorizing which was mine. Everything was so plainly painted—I'd guess that this was a guest wing or something.

Finally, I reached a balcony, off of which stemmed two staircases. I walked over to the closest one and descended to the lower floor.

This floor was much less bland—there were more colors and there were pictures on the walls. I didn't stop to look, instead continuing my exploration. I found the kitchen, which was empty—it had all old appliances, rusted and everything. After that, I found a (huge) living room, in which there were three sofas and four armchairs, all sitting in a semicircle facing a large fireplace, which was lit.

At that point, I had been walking for what seemed like hours, so I decided to take a moment as a break. I wondered where I was for the hundredth time, but quickly brushed the question off, as I had the ninety-nine times before, thinking,_ Someone is bound to show up and tell me. Still, I wonder what country's house this is._

I sat on the couch closest to the fire, leaning my head back on the cushions. _Just a minute, _I thought, _and then I'll go looking again._ I felt my eyelids start to droop again. The warmth from the fire was _so_ relaxing. I quickly sank into a dreamless sleep.

After what seemed like only a few minutes, but was probably a few hours, I felt myself rising to consciousness. I was laying down now, though I wasn't sure how I had gotten that way. I could still feel the warmth of the fire warming my face. Instinctively, I knew not to move though; I struggled to keep my eyes closed and my breathing even. I heard whispers—no, someone was _shouting_—they were just too far away for me to hear clearly. I thought I heard something about "lost" and "just like last time", but I couldn't be sure. Just a moment later, I heard footsteps; they must have been upstairs, because it sounded like someone was stomping down stairs.

I started to panic. What if I _wasn't _supposed to leave the bedroom? What if whoever was here was actually really mean? What was going to happen to me? Slowly, I managed to calm my breathing and stop twitching. Just in time, too. Seconds later, I heard at least two, maybe three sets of footsteps entering the sitting room. I remained perfectly still as they conversed only a few feet behind me; it was obvious they hadn't yet seen me.

"How could you be so careless?" one voice asked. The accent sounded familiar, but without the face put to the voice, I couldn't be sure. "I tool'd you, 'Watch her _all night_.' Why is that so hoord to undoorstahnd?"

Another voice chimed in. "Well, she was asleep! I didn't think she'd be awake anytime soon, and it's a little bit creepy to sit there watching someone sleep, isn't it?" This voice was higher, with a different accent, and there was there was emotion where the first voice had been monotone. I had to agree with him, though. It _is _pretty creepy to watch someone sleep.

"I don't know," yet another voice said. "Is't bedder to keep somewun safe, or not to be seen as creepy?" This voice was even deeper than the first, with less of a monotone and yet another accent. This one was somehow more familiar than the others, but I still couldn't tell what it was. I went through all of the countries, but couldn't figure out who it was.

"Whatever," the second voice said. "The point is, we have to find her." He sounded really scared. I almost wanted to get up to comfort him, but I couldn't give up my position. "What if she woondur'd out of deh house?" His voice was getting sadder and sadder as he spoke. "She could freeze!"

"Shut it, Dane. Calm down," the first voice said. "She's not going to _freeze_." He almost would have sounded angry, if his voice wasn't so drone-like. "She was built for this weather." I wasn't sure what 'this weather' was, but if it was as cold as they were saying, the second voice was right; I thrive in cold weather. I'm hardly ever cold, unless it's, like, negative thirty degrees. I never really understood it—I grew up in a relatively warm part of the U.S., so it's not like I could build up a tolerance.

The third voice interrupted my pondering. "Well," he said thoughtfully. "She coo'd still get lohst. Perhaps we shoo'd go looking fore hur." I heard all three set of footsteps head out, then a door slam. They must have gone outside looking for me.

After a few minutes of silence, I slowly opened my eyes. Seeing that the room was empty, I stood and made my way back up to my room. I was pretty sure as to whose house I was at now, and I thought, _Maybe I should go find them… _I paused, thinking about it. _Nah. It would probably just cause more problems._ What if we kept missing each other? It could be bad. I went up to my room to see about those books.

* * *

**Hi guys!**

**This is a short chapter, so today you get two!**

**Yay!**

**Happy reading!**

**Anya**


	10. Chapter 10

Several hours later, I heard a small sound downstairs. It sounded like a door opening and closing. _The boys are back_.

After coming back up to my room, I had decided to read while I waited for them to get back. They'd been gone for hours—at least five, maybe six—and I managed to get through three of the novels on the book shelf, and was in the first quarter of the fourth. They were really good books; I would have to talk to whoever picked them out, and ask them where they found them.

Anyway, I was reading, sitting on the bed—which really was way too big, I mean, couldn't they put me in a room with, like, a twin size bed, instead of a king?—curled up as small as I could be. I don't really like taking up space, so I usually curl up in a tight little ball whenever I'm sitting or lying down. I think it's a comfort thing. So, I'm sitting in the top left corner of the bed, right next to the lamp, as small and unobtrusive as I can get, and I hear a door open and close. Enough to peak anyone's curiosity, no? But I just continued reading like everything was normal. It's my specialty.

It was several minutes before anything else happened. Finally, I heard voices. I couldn't really _hear_ the voices, just enough to tell what they were saying. It sounded like they were by the staircase.

"Well," one voice said, "We should get ready for dinner." I couldn't hear the tone or inflection that went with the voice, but with the way it paused, it seemed pretty sad.

"Yeah," another voice said; it was deeper, though just enough to make the echo harder to understand. "Then we can discuss what to do next." I heard footsteps moving away from me, presumably down the hall on the other side of the stairs. I guessed that that was the main wing, where the owners lived.

I got out of bed, smoothing my dress down. Then, I went over to the closet and brought out a thin pair of slippers. They would mask the sound of my steps. I do so love being quiet. After I put them on, I went out into the hallway, listening carefully for voices coming my way. Hearing none, I ghosted down the stairs, trying to remember exactly where the kitchen was. I somehow managed to find it, but it looked different—probably due to the fact that there were a _lot_ of people in there now, whereas before it had been empty.

I walked carefully into the kitchen, observing. My dad always did say I was like a ninja; if I didn't speak, I could sneak up on someone really easily, and I couldn't be seen if I didn't want to be. I looked around for someone less busy than the others. Finally, I spotted someone who was just organizing spices by the pantry. I creeped over, willing myself to be invisible. I succeeded in making it over to the young girl without causing a fuss. When I reached her, I waited until she put the glass containers down; wouldn't want her to hurt herself. As I waited, I looked her over; she was shorter than me, but only by a little; her hair was super long, down to her waist, and it was a dark blonde color. She had dark green eyes with dark, thin eyebrows above them. She was really pretty.

"Excuse me," I said quietly, but loud enough for her to hear over the din of the busy kitchen. She jumped a little, but only glanced at me for a moment. "Could you point me in the direction of the dining room?" She turned to look at me more closely. Her eyes examined me from head to toe; she took in my carefully arranged dark hair, my pale skin with olive undertone, my snow-white floor length dress, the large novel in my hand (which I hadn't even realized I was still holding until her eyes zeroed in on it). Then, as if jolted with electricity, her whole body seemed to spasm for a moment. Her eyes were so wide I thought they'd pop out of her skull. She started to say something, trying to curtsy in the small space the pantry allowed. I was a little confused by her reaction, but I forced my face to display a knowing smile, putting a finger to my lips and winking, shaking my head. She straightened and nodded, her eyes still wide. "Just show me to the dining room, or wherever the boys are going to eat." She seemed a bit hesitant, like she thought we should at least tell the boys, but I said, "Please?"

She nodded. "Vright zis vay, miss." Her accent was faintly German, though not too much; she must have been away for a long time. She gestured for me to follow her, and she began to walk out of the kitchen. I ghosted after her, walking slowly so as not to draw attention. No one noticed us as we walked out of the kitchen and down the hall, to a set of doors. She cracked one of them, peeking inside before opening it all the way and holding it for me. The room was completely empty, not a soul in sight.

Inside the room was a medium dining table, which easily seated eight people, though there were only seven seats. On the other side of the table was another set of doors, which I assumed was an entry from a different hallway.

Two of the seats at the table had obviously not been used in a while; they were both worn, but the five others had fresh wear marks. One of the unused chairs was on each side of the table; one beside the seat at the foot of the table, the other beside the seat at the head. The unused seat by the foot of the table had a place setting, but the other did not; the place setting of that one was different than that of the five others. It was pristine in its condition, with only a chip in the china, directly in the center—the other place settings had scratch marks and stains and such all over. It was kind of like seeing a child's room when tragedy has struck; it's kept exactly the same as everything falls down in the world around it. It was odd to look at.

The girl pulled out the unused chair with the place setting, gesturing for me to sit down. I did, and she departed quietly, saying, "Dinner is not until six thirty, but yoo are velcome to stay here as yoo vate."

When she left, I turned to see a clock on the wall, then realized it was the first one I had seen all day; there wasn't one in the bedroom, or even in the sitting room from before. This clock said that it was ten to six. _Forty minutes_, I thought, then shrugged. _Good thing I brought that book, after all._

I began to read.

* * *

**Hey!**

**Dinner time's next!**

**I'm still writing the next part, so it probably won't be up until next week.**

**See y'all then!**

**Happy reading!**

**Anya**


	11. Chapter 11

When the clock struck six twenty-five, I began to hear voices in the hallway. They were still a ways down the hall from the dining room, but close enough for me to hear and be able to tell that they were coming closer. They were going to come in through the door across from me, I was pretty sure.

I was still sitting in my chair, with my knees tucked as close to my chest as possible and my elbows on top. It was a little hard to read this way, but I'd been doing it for many years, and was used to it. When I heard the voices approaching, I sat up and smoothed my dress in my lap, though I then put my elbows on the table and continued reading while also trying to listen to the voices. There were more than the last two times; I guessed that they were all walking together.

"We shoo'd be out looking steel," one voice said, "Not eating dinner like nuhting is wrong." He sounded a bit indignant; obviously, someone had forced him to quit looking.

"We hud to stahp," another said. "She's not going to ben'f't from oos hoort'g oors'ves trying to find hur."

"The stoop'd Dane _knows_ that, Svee," a different, flat voice said. It almost, _almost_ sounded irritated. "He just can't stahnd to naht be annoying as hell."

"Shut it, Norge," the first shouted. "Just because _you_ cahn't show any emootion but annoyance doo's'n't mean oodder people doo'n't care." I was a little scared there was going to be a fight, but I tried to keep a level head; the door was opening.

"Will both of you be quiet!" yet another voice piped up. This one was new; he hadn't been present in either of the previous conversations I had heard, I was sure. "We need to get dinner ovar widt so we cahn—"

The voice belonged to the boy opening the door. Judging by the shouting, the others were still a ways down the hall. He had stopped out of shock upon opening the door all the way, but the others didn't seem to notice that he had broken off mid-sentence. I looked up at him standing in the doorway, and I smiled, closing my book. He shot me a questioning look, like, _Where have you been?_ I just kept smiling and winked. His face turned a bit red as he took a step back out of the room and called out, "Guys!"

The yelling broke off, but just enough for two of the voices to shout back, "What?!"

The boy in the doorway turned back towards me and smirked; I smiled back, and he turned down the hall to say, "I think you guys are really going to like dinner tonight." I almost laughed; I put a hand over my mouth to keep it in, trying to control my thoughts and expression. I calmed down as a fifth voice spoke.

"Oh, I'm sure we will, Icey!" he called out. The footsteps were really close now, maybe ten feet away. The fifth voice continued, "Dinner is always good at Berwald's house." I heard a deep cough; I imagined Berwald looking at the ground, flattered, but still unable to show it. "It's too bad—"

He broke off as the five of them gathered in the doorway. I tried to imagine what they were seeing; me, in a snowy white dress with a book in front of me, my chin in my hand as my elbow was propped on the table, perfectly fine and _not lost in a snowstorm like I was supposed to be_. I almost laughed, but kept a straight face and said, "About time you guys got here. I was a bit scared I was going to have to eat alone." I smirked at their stunned faces before sighing, shaking my head and looking down at the table. "Where were you guys? I woke up and no one was around. I sat in that sitting room with the fireplace for, like, _ever_." No one was saying anything. "I didn't know what to do, so I found the kitchen, and a nice girl said it was already close to dinner and brought me here so I could wait for you guys." I paused and looked at all of them. "Where were you?" I asked with a curious expression.

Tino was first to recover. He rushed over to my side of the table and wrapped his arms around me. It surprised me a little, but still, I automatically hugged him back. "Oh Lillian!" he cried. "We were so scar'd. Where wur _you_? We luked all over fer you, and we coo'd'n't find you!"

"What?" I asked innocently. I saw Berwald's eyes narrow just a little: he _knew_. He knew I had been avoiding them. He knew I had waited for them to leave, that I hadn't tried to catch them. He knew, but for some reason, he wasn't going to say anything. I wondered why. "I woke up and didn't know where I was, so I got dressed and went exploring. I found the kitchen at that point, but no one was in there that early, so I left to keep exploring." As I spoke, everyone took their seats; Berwald sat next to me, while Tino sat next to him, Mathias and Emil sat at the head and foot of the table, respectively, and Lukas sat across from me and next to the other empty seat. "I found a living room and sat on one of the couches to take a break, but I ended up falling back to sleep in front of the fire." I blushed a little, and heard Emil chuckle beside me. "Narcolepsy at its finest," I muttered. I cleared my throat. I wasn't going to add the part where I heard the conversation about going to look for me. I still felt bad, but I wasn't going to say I'd been eavesdropping. It's just rude.

"When I woke up, I went back upstairs and read a couple of books. Then, when I came back downstairs, I went looking for people. I kept thinking I heard voices, but I wasn't sure, and every time I got to where I thought they were, no one was there." I looked up. "That was you guys looking for me, wasn't it?" They traded looks with one another, then nodded. I groaned. "Ugh!" I swept a hand over my face before saying, "I'm so sorry. I knew I should have said something. I just didn't think." I was a bit sheepish; I felt a little bad for acting like I had no idea. "We must have kept circling each other." I shrugged. "About an hour ago, I went back to the kitchen, but I didn't expect there to be so many _people _there." I grimaced; it really had been a lot of people, and I'm not exactly a people person. "I found this really nice girl, and she brought me here to wait for dinner. I'm surprised you hadn't heard where I was." I shrugged again. I happened to catch a glimpse of the clock; six thirty exactly.

No one said anything for a moment. People came in with food, and we all started eating. I hadn't realized how hungry I had been; I had to try really hard to control my impulse to shovel food in. I saw Mathias smirking over at me, which made me blush and look back down. I swallowed and took a sip of water. It tasted a bit bitter, but then, I've never been a fan of water. Sure, I love eating snow and icicles and stuff, but drinking water? No way.

No one was speaking, so I didn't want to and risk getting into trouble. As far as I knew, there weren't rules as to no talking, but then, I'd only ever seen them eat a meal in the anime. Which, I admit, is exactly what was happening, but still…

We all continued eating in silence. Once dinner was done, we all walked to the living room I had been in earlier. Berwald held my arm as we walked, almost like he was preventing me from disappearing again. We sat in the semicircle of couches and chairs. Finally, I couldn't take the silence anymore. (Okay, I just said that because that's what's expected; really, I just couldn't take another second of Mathias, Lukas, and Tino staring at me. It was driving me _insane_.)

"So," I said. It startled them a bit, I think; they jumped just slightly. "What happened in the rest of the meeting?" This was as good a place to start as any, I thought.

Berwald and Tino exchanged a look, then Tino turned so he was facing me. He was on the same sofa as me, so it wasn't that hard. "Well," he said hesitantly, "When we were shoor you wur asleep—which I have too say, you fell asleep very quickly—we all descuss'd what shoo'd happ'n." He paused for a moment.

I asked, "And you decided…?" I looked around at the others a bit nervously. A couple—Mathias and Emil—were smiling, but Berwald wouldn't look me in the eye—I could only see the side of his face—no one can tell Lukas' feelings from his face, and Tino just looked thoughtful.

Finally, Berwald spoke to the fire. "Dat yoo shoo'd h've 'n excavation d'ne." I looked over at him, a little confused. That had already been decided when I was awake, hadn't it?

"About that," I said, "Not that I'm not _so _much happier to be _here_, but wasn't I supposed to stay with Gilbert until the results came?" I looked around, feeling my eyebrows scrunch up. I saw Berwald grimace as he replied.

"Due to r'c'nt ev'n't's," he said, "It huz b'n d'cid'd dat you w'll stay h're. Wid me." He almost looked to be blushing, but it was probably from the heat of the fire.

"Oh," I said, shrugging, "Okay." Now everyone was looking at me. "What?"

"Well," Mathias said tentatively, "It's just dat…" He looked down at his beer glass before smiling at me, then laughing. "No one's ever said 'okay' when they'll have to be in Svee's presence for longer than strictly necessary."

"But," I said, confused, "This is necessary, isn't it? And why would people not be okay with it?"

"You huv seen it yers'lf, Lillian," Berwald said. "My 'gl're'—" he used quotes "—is sc'ry." He grimaced and looked back down. "If," he started, but stopped. I waited for a moment. He started again. "When you get scar'd, you c'n leave. I woo'n't blame you." He was so self-deprecating, I wanted to cry.

"I won't," I said, "But thanks for the offer." I smiled, and he looked over at me, startled. I shrugged. "I know what it's like to have everyone think you're scary without them even knowing you." My smile turned to a grimace, and Mathias laughed incredulously. _That guy laughs at everything._ "No one gives you a chance," I whispered, looking down. After a moment, I looked back up. "What did you mean 'due to recent events'?" I asked.

"Well," Lukas said, "It has come to everyone's attention that you could possibly be a…" He hesitated, more for my benefit, I thought, than because of any kind of feeling. "Long lost relative," he decided to say, "Of ours." He almost smiled, like he was proud of himself for not giving anything away.

"Um," I mumbled, "Okay." I looked around the room. I was a little confused. _Why would they think that?_ _I don't look anything like them. _"I don't—" I felt my eyes widened. "Oh." _Oooohhhh_. "You can't possibly think—" I broke off. "I mean, I'm not—" _Ugh. This is so difficult. _"You think I'm Uralia, don't you?" They all looked at me, like, _Duh!_

It made no sense, though. I mean, I was only twenty-one; Uralia had been around in _BC _times. Sure, I guess I looked a little like her…okay, _exactly_ like her, in this anime form, but still. She seemed nice in that vision I had, and I…wasn't. "Why would you think that?" I asked. I realized I had gotten up and started pacing behind the sofa I had been sitting on, and I froze for a moment. I turned and went to sit back down. I repeated my question.

"First of all," Mathias said happily, "Have you _looked_ in a mirr'r?" He was at least _trying _not to laugh, for my benefit; it would have seemed like a big joke if someone was laughing. "You look _exactly _like her." He pointed to a portrait hanging in the back of the room. I hadn't seen it earlier, but it was kind of hard not to, now.

It was a beautiful painting. Seven people stood in a group; four taller boys in the back, three smaller ones in chairs in front of them. Wait—only two in the bottom row were boys. The other was a young girl. She had her left arm around a boy—I was pretty sure it was Tino. The way the two rows were, she was in front of the space between the two boys on the left. Each of them had a hand on one of her shoulders. The boy on the left was practically laughing, his smile was so wide. The other boy looked very serious, but still gentle. It was Scandia and Berwald. I could tell. The girl was smiling, as well. It was easy to tell that it was Uralia, but…she looked just like me. She wasn't wearing glasses like I was, but her eyes sparkled with the same mischievous light I saw every time I looked in a mirror. I then realized…in the vision, she kept playing tricks. She wasn't exactly all sugar, but she was still sweet. Maybe that's how I looked to other people, too. The thought was warming.

"Second of all," Emil said, calling my attention back the boys. "Just the way you act."

"What do you mean?" I asked. They all looked at me. I blushed a bit under their scrutiny.

"Well, everything," Lukas said. I shot a glare his way, like, _Yeah_, that's _helpful_. I heard Tino chuckle. I looked over at him, and he grinned.

"Dat's what we mean, Lillian," he said. My eyebrows scrunched, and he laughed again. "Uralia had deh best mean luke, just like you just gave to Lukas." I blushed a little, opening my mouth to apologize, but Berwald interrupted me.

"And she alw'ys apol'g'zed after she g've it," he said, looking at me pointedly. I snapped my mouth shut, blushing even darker. Mathias just could not control his laughter any longer; he was incapacitated for a good five minutes, throwing his head back and shaking so hard he almost spilled his beer. It was contagious—I started to laugh, too, and soon enough we were all rolling. Even Berwald was chuckling—not the good, hearty laugh he had had in my vision the day before, but still more than I'd ever seen him laugh in the anime. It was several minutes before we calmed down. I was gasping for air and had a laughing headache. _If this is what it's like all the time, maybe those will go away_. It wasn't a terrible idea.

Finally, Mathias said, "And she had laughing fits like no other." He looked at me, grinning. "She always laughed when someone else did, and if she started laughing, you couldn't help joining in."

I realized that was just like me; I couldn't help but laugh when others did. I thought it was an empathy thing, but…maybe not. There was a pause in the conversation, but it wasn't uncomfortable in the least.

"And," Lukas said, bringing me back to the present, "She was constantly biting her nails, even though it was not acceptable of a lady." I hadn't even realized I was doing it, but I'd been chewing my nails in the silence. _I_ am _a compulsive nail-biter_, I thought.

Berwald said, "She w's alw'ys a s'mple g'rl." I looked over at him curiously. He nodded. "She w's alw'ys trying to f'nd deh simpl'st ootf'ts," he said, and I looked down. I had chosen this dress simply because it was girly, but not too much. "L'ke you seem to do." He paused. "She w's g'rly, but she h'ld her own. She w's qu'ck to choose b'ttle arm'r ov'r f'ncy dr'ss any d'y, but she w's st'll g'rly enough to l'ke dr'ss's." His face looked heated, but I forced myself to look away. _Not because of you_, I thought. _Only for her_. I was a little bitter, but a thought was manifesting in my mind, and I was excited by it. _Maybe not for long_.

"She was always pacing," Emil said, bringing my attention to him. I had a flashback to a few minutes earlier, and he confirmed it. "Likes you dids a couple of minutes ago." He looked thoughtful. "She never seemed to notice it, sough." He looked over at me and asked, "Do you have thats problem?" When I blushed, he smirked and said, "I thoughts so."

"And she was _always blushing_," Tino said. "It was so _cute_!" He laughed, which just made me blush harder, when made everyone start laughing again. It was crazy. And _so much fun_.

* * *

**Hi guys!**

**Hope y'all like this chapter. One of my (non-fandom) friends told me that she forgot she was reading fanfiction, which I guess is good?**

**Anyway, I know that Berwald is a little OOC, but I _did _warn you.**

**Happy reading!**

**Anya**


	12. Chapter 12

Much later, after many stories about Uralia's habits, we all went to bed; all the boys except for (obviously) Berwald, were leaving in the morning to go home. We were all going to eat breakfast together.

I was so tired that night. My head was pounding from all the laughing, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. I was a little loopy from lack of sleep, even though I had slept most of the day. I always got like that. I never paid any mind to it, because no one was ever really around when it happened. Sometimes my friends saw it, but never complete strangers. I tried to at least _act_ normal until the boys wanted to go to bed, but as soon as I stood to go to my room, I knew it was all over.

"Whoa," Berwald said gruffly, catching me as I stumbled.

"Whoopsie-daisy," I said, my voice sounding a bit high-pitched even to _my _ears.

I heard Mathias and Tino giggling behind me, and even Berwald was smiling a bit. I straightened up, putting my hand on his arm until I got my balance. I let go and smiled at the guys. "See you guys in the morning," I said sleepily. My eyes were starting to cross, and Mathias could hardly stifle his laughter as he replied in kind.

I gave a little wave and made my way towards the entryway of the sitting room, picking up my book from where I had left it on an end table. As I exited and moved towards the stairs, I heard a few chuckles behind me. I barely registered my blush.

I made it all the way to the base of the stairs before stumbling. _Dang it_, I thought drowsily. _So close_. I tried to keep walking, but my slipper was caught on the inside of my dress, and I barely caught myself before face planting.

In order to catch myself, I had to throw my hands out, and I dropped my book. It slid away from me, and I groaned. It thought about leaving it there and coming back for it in the morning, but I knew I'd forget about it by then. I stood up, hiking my dress up so the hem was just at my knees. I walked over to it and reached for it, but a different hand snatched it before I could.

I straightened quickly, almost too quickly. I had to practically jog backwards so I didn't fall on my butt. I looked up to find Berwald standing in front of me, holding his hands out as if to catch me again. His face was flat, in that way that some would consider scary. I thought it was cute. "I'm sorry," he said, then hesitated, "Lillian." He held the book out to me, and I took it.

"It's okay," I said. My words were slurred; I could barely understand myself. I didn't know how he could have. I cleared my throat and shook my head, trying to get rid of the cobwebs. My voice was clearer when I repeated myself. "It's okay. You just startled me a bit. Thank you." I finished, waving my recently returned book. He nodded. "Goodnight," I said. "See you tomorrow." I could hardly see him. My eyelids were drooping severely. I turned back to the stairs, walking carefully. I trod up the stairs, getting about halfway there before I had to stop.

I heard a sigh behind me, but it wasn't so much exasperated as amused. Footsteps climbed up until someone was standing just behind me. Stupidly, I scrunched up against the railing, waiting for whoever it was to pass. Another amused sigh. Then, I felt a hand on my arm, and turned to see Berwald beside me. "C'm on," he said. "I'll h'lp yoo t' yor room."

I blushed again and said, "I'll be okay. Thank you, though." I turned away and started up the steps again, and he let my arm go. I could practically _feel_ him rolling his eyes, though, and, sure enough, a few steps down the hallway I stumbled against the wall. Again, I felt his hand on my arm. I wanted to tell him I would be okay, but my room suddenly seemed _really_ far away—it was only the seventh door on the right, but that is _really_ far to walk, especially for someone inebriated, which I might as well have been. I looked up at him, and he had a concerned look on his face. It was _so_ sweet. To just know that a stranger—well, maybe a sibling in another life—cared that much about me to help me to my room. It's—well—it _had_ been a really long time since I'd felt that kind of love. Suddenly I was just _so tired_. I thought, _Was I this tired a second ago?_ The thought quickly drifted away as my knees buckled and my eyes fluttered shut.

"Whoa," I heard Berwald grunt again as he caught me before I hit the ground. "Er, Lillian? Are yoo ok'y?"

I think I mumbled something like, _Yeah, totally. Just one second. So tired. _It came out as gibberish, though, and the words were quickly dashed from my mind. I heard Berwald chuckle a bit, then felt myself get swept up, bridal style. I wrapped my arms around Berwald's neck, snuggling into his chest. He laughed quietly again, and I had a flash of this same scene:

_Berwald carried me down the hallway. I was so tired, and I just couldn't walk. My dress had gotten in the way too much. He was laughing as I mumbled nonsense, halfway between dreaming and wakefulness._

As I thought about it, I realized it _wasn't _what was happening now; in the vision, I had a bright yellow headband, and the dress I was wearing had a bow on it, just under the bust line. I wasn't wearing a yellow headband—I'd seen one and thought about it, but decided against it—and I had untied the bow that morning and wrapped it around itself. I don't even _like_ bows.

It _was _me, though; I could feel it happening both in the vison and in the present. I hadn't realized it before, but the same thing had happened in the vision I had had the day before, too. I had felt Berwald's grip on my arm, even though he was touching _Uralia's_; I had felt Scandia's hair run through my hands as _Uralia _gripped it for balance; I had felt Mathias' grip on my hand as he held _Uralia's_, and every snowball that hit _Uralia_. I realized, in that moment of partial wakefulness: we're the same person.

It made me both happy and sad. Happy, because I had a family again, and they'd be able to get to know their sister all over again. Sad, because _she_ was never coming back, and they might not like the girl who would take her place.

I heard a door open, felt Berwald shift his arm to shut it behind us. _We're here already? _I thought. _It seems so much shorter when someone's carrying you. _I loosened my grip on Berwald, but continued to snuggle in his chest.

"Ok'y," I heard him whisper. He slowly let my legs fall until my feet were on the ground. I opened my eyes, and sure enough, I recognized the bedroom I had woken up in earlier that day. When he was sure I was steady, he shifted his grip so that he was just lightly holding my arm. I set the book—which I was miraculously still holding—on the bedside table, taking off my glasses as well, and he pulled the blanket back, holding it for me to climb into the bed.

Before I did, I turned to him and tried to clear my head. Slowly, my mind became semi-lucid. I looked up at him and smiled a little. He returned it with a tiny, barely-there smile of his own. I gripped his shoulder, then reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck in a hug. His arms came around my waist hesitantly, but then stronger. "Thank you," I said. "This is going to be great. I'm so excited." I pulled back to see his face. It was so full of emotion: happiness, excitement, confusion. I leaned up and in—he was so much _taller_ than me—and kissed his cheek, then pulled back again. I gave him a smile of pure happiness. He looked like he wanted to say something, but settled on simply giving me another small smile. "I love you," I said, then climbed into bed. I laid down on my side, ready to go to sleep. Those few moments of lucidity were quickly fading, my eyelids drooping again. Berwald stood by the bed for a few more minutes before reaching out and smoothing my hair, then turning the lamp off. I heard footsteps heading out of the room, then the door opening. After a few moments of silence, I shrugged inwardly. _Must have missed the door closing._

I snuggled deeper into the pillow, slowly drifting off. I was just on the edge of sleep when I thought I heard Berwald's voice say, "I l've yoo, too—" then, softer "—my w'fe."

The door clicked shut quietly.

* * *

**Hi guys!**

**So, you just got a huge hint as to Lillian's connection to the Nordics.**

**Of course, it might not be as it seems. (But I won't tell you that.)**

**Mwahahahahaha!**

**Seriously, though.**

**Read &amp; Review!**

**Happy reading!**

**Anya**


	13. Chapter 13

The next morning was just as happy as the night had been. At breakfast, the Nordics told stories about their countries' histories, and in exchange they got to ask me whatever they wanted about my human life. It seemed so far away. It was hard to believe, but it had been only two days ago that I was playing drinking games with my college friends and waiting for relatives to start calling as I crammed for my final exams.

I told them a lot about myself, but there were some things I couldn't bring myself to say. They seemed happy with any answer, though, so I didn't feel too bad about it. I did notice that Berwald and Lukas narrowed their eyes at some of my responses. Like, when I was talking about family—mother, father, two brothers (one older and one younger)—and how we were always close, but left out the part where we fought constantly and no one understood me, they shared a look away from the others before shooting a look my way. I thought it was weird, but I brushed it off.

However, the same thing happened later, when I was describing my childhood parties. I told them pretty much everything up to the point I went into seventh grade, but pretty much skipped everything after that, going right into my college years. Well, I didn't _skip _it, but I was pretty vague. Again, they shared a look as the other three were paying close attention to the story. I didn't ignore it this time, but met their gazes. They _knew_. I wasn't sure how much, but they at least realized that I wasn't telling the whole story.

After breakfast, the boys left, and Berwald and I saw them off. We went into the sitting room and talked for a bit, but the conversation was about simple things, like how I was doing or when he thought the test results would come in, and it was punctuated with comfortable silence. He didn't bring up my vagueness at the breakfast table, and I didn't offer up any information. In return, I didn't bring up the scene from the night before, and he seemed relieved; I think he thought I had been asleep. I was a little disappointed. _I guess he didn't mean what he said. _But I did.

He soon had to leave to attend to some business or other. I was left alone, but that was okay. I actually _like _being alone.

I went back up to my room to retrieve last night's book from where I'd left it on the nightstand, then returned to the sitting room. I sat in that room for a couple of hours, basking in the warmth of the fire and reading my book quietly. When I finished the book, I went back to my room and put it back on the shelf. Berwald still hadn't returned, and the silence was quickly becoming monotonous. I decided to go look for the nice girl I had seen the evening before.

I dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, tucking the shirt into my waistband and wrapping a heavy jacket around my waist. I stuffed a scarf, mittens, and a hat into the jacket pockets; maybe I would go outside with her, if I found her. I didn't want to have to go all the way back to my room to get a coat. I strapped on a pair of warm, fur-lined leather boots and headed out. I trailed absentmindedly to the kitchen, letting my feet find their way. When I got there, everything was quiet. I had declined lunch earlier, and Berwald, I assumed, was still out.

I found a door in the back of the kitchen and tentatively knocked. When no one answered, I knocked louder, then called out, "Hello? I'm looking for someone. Is anyone in there?" No one answered, so I shrugged and headed back towards the main door. When I was a few steps away, the door behind me opened, and a boy—only a little younger than me—poked his head out.

"Hello?" he asked. He had a Swedish accent, but his voice was too high pitched for it to be as attractive as it was on Berwald. "Who are you looking for?" He looked at me with wide green eyes.

"Um," I mumbled, then spoke louder. "I don't know her name, but…" I trailed off as he raised his eyebrows. "I saw her yesterday evening. She was arranging spices in the pantry, and she showed me to the dining room." He looked very curious. "I wanted to thank her."

He turned and looked backward, into the room behind the door. He said something to someone before peeking back out. "Well," he said smiling, "I think I can help with that. She's my sister, after all." He opened the door wider and gestured for me to come in. I did, and found myself the focus point of several gazes.

There was a table in the middle of the small room, around which sat eight people, nine when the boy from before took his seat. I recognized all of them from the busy kitchen the night before; several chefs, two servants, the head butler guy and a couple of maids. They were all trying to stand and, like, bow or whatever, but I waved a hand. "Please," I said, "Don't get up."

"She's looking for my sister, guys," the boy from before said. "Where'd she go?"

One of the maids snapped out of it enough to look at him snidely. "Probably out tending her garden," she said. "Which you very well know, George."

_George _glanced back at her with mirth in his green eyes. They matched his sister's exactly. "Yeah, I do, Sophie. I just thought I'd get a second opinion." He winked at her, which prompted a disgusted sound from her throat. He laughed and turned to me, still smiling. "So, yeah. That's where she is. The garden. Her name is Janie, but she likes to be called Elle."

"Great," I said. "Just point me in the right direction, and I'll let you get back to…whatever you all are doing." I looked around and smiled politely. Everyone smiled back, even the snide-talking girl.

"Well, for starters," the head butler guy said, "It's not outside."

"Really?" I kept my expression and voice bemused, rather than sarcastic, like I wanted to be; I mean, it was a blizzard outside. Who gardens in a blizzard? Who _thinks _that someone would garden in a blizzard? It's ridiculous. "So, it's a greenhouse?"

He looked at me honestly. "Yes, it is. You just take a right from the sitting room, go all the way down the hall, and it's through the big oak doors. You can't miss it." He turned back to the table, and I shrugged. _At least someone is treating me like a normal person around here._

I turned to leave, saying "Thank you!", and heading out the door. I went back to the living room and took a right outside the door, following the directions given to me. I opened the doors at the end of the hall and was immediately assaulted with plant smells. It was _wonderful_.

As I walked through the rows of plants, I called out, "Hello?" My voice echoed. And echoed. And echoed. No one answered, so I kept walking. "I'm looking for Elle?"

I heard a scuffle, and turned to see the girl from the last evening crawling from behind a small garden. She brushed her hands off on her dress. "Hello," I said, walking towards her.

"Hallo, again, miss," she said, curtsying.

Okay, I'm just going to tell you; I hate that kind of stuff. Even back when I was human, I hated it. Sure, I dreamed of living in a previous time period, and yeah, I wanted to succeed and have tons of money, but who doesn't? I never liked it when people were treated like they were better than everyone else. I get it, yeah, with certain people: royalty, government officials, elder relatives, even, deserved respect. But to treat someone like they're better than you for no reason whatsoever—that's ridiculous. I, myself, only treated people like that if it was the first time I had met them. After that, unless they were one of the special cases, I just treated them how I wanted to be treated—nothing special, just basic politeness. Therefore, when people were suddenly treating me like that, it made me uncomfortable.

"Why does everyone do that?" I asked.

"Do vhat, miss?"

"Curtsy or bow or whatever," I said. She wasn't looking me in the eye as I stood in front of her. I looked down at the garden next to her feet. I saw tons of different flowers on one side, while what I assumed were spices lined the other. I looked back up as she answered.

"Vell," she said quietly, "you are a guest in Master Bervald's home." She looked up, but, seeing my curious expression, quickly looked back down. "It is expected zat vee treat you as such."

"Expected by whom?" I asked, shocked. I was also a bit angry; I'm just a _kid_, I shouldn't be getting any special treatment just because I'm living somewhere. Like I said; it made me uncomfortable.

"Ourselves," she said, surprised. "It is proper etiquette."

"Well," I said, "I don't like it." I looked her up and down; she was filthy, with dirt on her arms and face, covering her dress. "This is the only order I will ever give you: no curtsying or saying miss or anything. I'll have no special treatment."

She looked up with a smile. "I believe zat is more zen one order, mi—" she froze for a moment, blushing prettily. "Um, vhat vould you like to be called?" she asked.

I held out my hand for her to shake. She did as I said, "Lillian. Call me Lillian."

"Vhat a pretty name," she murmured, kneeling on the ground again. I joined her.

"My mother owned a garden like this," I said

"Did she?"

"Yeah," I said, nodding. "She loved plants." I thought back. "Every time I came home from college, I had to call ahead of time, so she could bring all of the plants inside."

"Vhy vould she have to do zat?" Elle asked, digging a hole in the black dirt. She put a handful of seeds inside, then closed it back up.

"She needed to bring all of the plants inside," I started, still watching her, "because every time I visited, there was this huge snowstorm." She looked startled. "Yeah. It didn't matter if there had been no sign whatsoever on the news or weather charts. If I was visiting in any time between September and May—_boom_—snow." I laughed. "It was really funny, since no one had any idea what to think about it." I looked at Elle. "Even the weatherman said, 'We don't know how ta explain it, folks. We just don't know why this kepps happ'nin'.'" Elle laughed at the impersonation of our local weatherman.

"Surely, you are exaggerating, mi—Lillian," she corrected herself.

"That's what you think," I giggled. "But that man couldn't control his vocals for anything. I'm surprised he wasn't fired for being unintelligible." Elle laughed. She continued planting seeds in the fresh dirt while I watched. "Can I help?" I asked finally. She looked up, surprised. I pointed to the remaining seeds. "I know the basics, you can just tell me how far away to plant them." She looked like she wanted to say no, but relented after a moment.

"Okay," she said. "Just put six inches betveen each plant, and you should be good." She handed me some seeds and a small shovel. "Holes are two inches deep." She turned back to her side of the garden, where she was now weeding out dandelions.

I carefully dug a hole, putting three seeds in and then closing it back up. I dug another hole about half a foot away and did it again. Elle looked over at me and nodded approvingly. "Good?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "Very good. Did you help your mudder vit her garten?"

"Yeah, I did." I remembered how much I loved to watch her as a kid. "I've always loved winter the best, but there's just something about plants that calms me down." In the corner of my eye, I saw her nod absentmindedly. "I know it's a cliché," I said, "But I love, love, _love _roses. They're my favorite flower." She seemed surprised, and I asked her why.

"You don't seem zeh type," she replied. "Do not misunderstand, Lillian, but…" She looked over at me, pausing as if gathering her thoughts. Or maybe she was trying not to hurt my feelings. "You don't really seem girly." She blushed and looked down.

"Yeah," I said, "So I've been told. Lots of my friends are—were—always telling me that I'm a tomboy." She looked confused by the term. "A girl that acts like a boy," I clarified. She seemed to get the picture, and nodded. "Plus, just last night, Berwald told me that I was only slightly girly. Feminine, but not overbearingly so, I guess." I thought about it. "He said that Uralia was like that, too, so I guess we're not as different as I thought."

"I suppose not," Elle said quietly, busily weeding her side of the garden. "So," she said, "Vhat uzzer flowvers do you like?"

"All kinds," I said. "Roses are my number one, but I like all flowers. Carnations, Lilies, Forsythias, Moonflowers, Violets, Narcissus, Forget-Me-Nots, Belladonna, Hyacinths—"

Elle stopped me, laughing. "Vhoa," she said. "Okay, I get it." She laughed again. "You like flowers." She looked at me thoughtfully as I blushed; I hadn't meant to gab. "What is your second favorite? Besides roses, I am meaning?"

I thought about it for a minute as I planted a couple more seeds. "Sunflowers, I think," I said finally. "I love sunflowers. After that…Tulips. Tulips are definitely in my top three. Roses, sunflowers, and tulips." She nodded, weeding out the last of the dandelions as I planted the last of the seeds. Finally, we were both finished.

"Thank you," Elle said, "For the help." She gestured for me to follow her over to a small hose, where we cleaned off our hands and brushed off our clothes a bit.

"Do you want to go outside?" I asked suddenly. She looked at me a bit oddly. "What?"

"Vell," she started, "No one ever vants to go outside. Least of all vit me."

"I have been dying to go outside," I informed her. "I caught a glimpse outside earlier, and there's _snow _on the ground." She looked confused, like she didn't see how that was a good thing. "Snow is great," I said. "I _love _snow."

* * *

**Hey, guys! Miss me?**

**It's summer now, and I've had a bit of time to write-not only this story, but a new one, as well.**

**I hope you guys will review and tell me how you like it! There's this chapter and the next, and I'm almost finished with a third, so you've got a lot of reading!**

**Happy Reading! Please Review!**

**Anya**


	14. Chapter 14

"Vhat do you sink?"

I turned around, only to come face to face with the most perfect looking snowman I'd ever seen. "Wow, Elle!" I exclaimed. "How did you manage that on your first try?" I looked over at my own snowman, which was lumpy with a crooked carrot nose and a wobbly row of buttons. I turned back to Elle with a pout on my face.

She laughed. "It's really easy!" She paused. "Maybe not too easy, zo," she conceded, looking at my snowman and barely holding in her laughter.

"How'd you do yours?" I asked. She came over, kneeling on the ground and waving for me to join her. She scooped a bunch of the snow around us into a good-sized hill.

"I just got a bunch of snow built up like zis," she said. She started patting it down on all sides, tucking some of the snow in on the bottom. "Zen, you keep patting oontil you have a smooze surface all around. Come on, you can help."

Soon, with both of us working, we had the mound of snow completely smoothed out on all sides. We did the same two more times, each hill smaller than the last. Finally, we had three hills of different sizes, all in a row.

"Now," Elle said, "ve just pick up zeh meetioom ball on zeh big vun, and zeh smallest on top." Once we maneuvered them into a stack, Elle walked over to the basket of supplies, gathered in the kitchen before we'd come outside. She picked up the small bowl of olives, along with a carrot, and came back to my side.

"Okay," I said a bit smugly, tightening my scarf and pulling down my hat as a gust of wind swept by us. "How do you get the buttons in a straight line?" I'd rearranged my first set of buttons several times before giving up. I wasn't sure how she'd gotten hers in a perfect column, but it was surely beginner's luck, right?

"Simple," she said. "I just took vun—" as she was speaking, she did exactly what she was saying when she was saying it "—and stick it into zeh top meetle purt of zeh meetle ball. Zhen I let eet slide down zeh height of zeh man, making a straight line imprinted on zeh snow. I followved eet carefully viz my finger, zhen line zeh rest of zeh ooleeves dowvn zeh line." As she did so, I watched her carefully. Sure enough, the row of buttons came out straight as could be.

"Whoa," I said. "That's awesome!" I laughed and jumped up and down excitedly. "It's hard to believe you've never made a snowman before," I observed after I calmed. "Yours is so much better than mine, and I've been making snowmen for years."

"Y's, v'll, Janie alw'ys h'z b'n a p'rf'ctsh'n'st."

Both Elle and I spun around at the sound of the voice. Just ten feet away, Berwald stood examining us and our various snowmen. When we turned, he took a few steps closer, until he was standing right in front of us.

"Master Bervald," Elle murmured, curtsying quickly.

"Hi," I said simply. No way was _I_ going to curtsy; I'd probably fall on my face.

"Hullo," Berwald greeted. "Vh't are yoo l'deez dooing oot in sooch col'd vetter?"

"Building snowmen," I answered. Elle was just looking at the ground, and I quickly realized what might be the result of this conversation; she wasn't supposed to be out here. "I got bored sitting and reading, so I went to find Elle here. She's the nice girl who showed me to the dining room last night."

Berwald nodded his acknowledgement. "Y's," he said, glancing over at Elle, "I dot dat m'ght be dah c'se." He looked back at me and gave a tiny smile. Microscopic, really. "I am so'ree fer int'roopting. Dah g'rd tool'd me d't yoo l'ft, und…" He trailed off, looking at the snowmen. "Yoo wur m'king snowm'n?"

"Yeah," I said, jostling Elle's arm a bit, making her look up. "I just love snow so much, and when Elle told me she had never built a snowman before, I just _had _to teach her. Of course," I grimaced, "She ended up teaching me, in the end." I looked over at my original snowman, scowling. "How she managed a perfect snowman on her first try, I'll never know." I looked over at her and grinned. "She must just be special."

Elle blushed. "I'm just very diligent in my vork," she said, looking up at me. "I, uh, doon't vreally like mistakes." Then, she seemed a bit startled. "Not zat yours is bad," she said quickly. "I just meant—"

I waved a gloved hand, sending a bit of snow flying. "No need to apologize," I said, laughing. "I know mine is horrible." I sighed. "As much as I love snow, I've always been better at destroying things than building them." I shrugged, laughing it off. "Just how I was built." I grinned at the others. They were just looking at me. I cleared my throat. "Well," I said nervously, "Berwald?" He raised an eyebrow. I gestured towards the leftover supplies. "Would you like to build one?" He looked a bit hesitant, but nodded.

"Ok'y," he said. "Shoor. If yoo v'nt to, we c'n do d't." I grinned up at him, then looked for a clear patch of snow. Finding one, I sat on my knees, gesturing for him to join me.

Berwald knelt in the snow a couple of feet in front of me, and I started scooping up snow from all directions. Following my lead, he started pushing snow towards me, and the two piles quickly became one huge pile of snow. I showed him how to smooth out the sides, just like Elle had showed me just minutes before, and he methodically followed my directions. As he worked, I moved onto making another pile, smoothing the edges absentmindedly as I watched him.

He got a little crease in his brow as he concentrated on making the hill perfectly smooth, his gloved fingers gliding over the snow, sawing ridges off with every pass. His glasses slid halfway down his nose, but he didn't seem to notice or care. I was a little tempted to push them back, but I managed to control myself—with extreme difficulty, I might add. _He really is cute,_ I thought, startling myself a bit. I blushed at the thought and looked back down at the hill I was making. I busily smoothed the rest of it out as Berwald finished his own hill and started making another one, smaller than mine. I felt him glance over at me.

"Vh't 's 't?" he asked. I looked over curiously to find him gazing at my face with a semi-concerned expression.

"What?"

He pushed his glasses back up his nose as he said, "Yor f'ce 's r'd. Are yoo too col'd? Too war'm?" I blushed a little deeper, shaking my head and getting back to work.

"I'm okay," I said, carefully lifting my snowball and putting it on top of the first one, the one I'd made with Berwald. He nodded, going back to his own snowball.

"Oh," I heard Elle say. She'd been so quiet working on the other snowman, I'd forgotten she was there. "I do not sink zat ve vill have enough ooleeves." I looked over at her. She was looking into the olive bowl, counting.

"Yeah?" I asked. She peered over at me and nodded sadly. I shrugged. "Okay," I said, standing up. "Let me see." I took the bowl from her hands, counting them myself. We had two snowmen going, each needing about forty olives for the buttons and smile—it sounds like a lot, but if you want to be detailed, that's how much it takes. There were only twenty, not nearly enough for one, let alone two. "Huh. I could've sworn I put a couple hundred in here. Oh well," I said, shrugging lightly, and both Berwald and Elle looked at me. I looked at the rest of the supplies, noticing that nothing else was depleted nearly as much. "I'll go get some more. Be right back." I started in the direction of the house, but stopped and turned when I heard Elle rush up behind me.

"Wait!" she called out. "You can stay here. I will go get more of zeh supplies." She started toward the house.

"Are you sure?" I asked. She turned back and nodded before departing. I shrugged and returned to building the base of the snowman. I helped Berwald center his last snowball on top of the first two. "We need arms," I said. I went over to the first snowman I'd made that day, the horrible crooked one. I ripped out the sticks I had used for arms and brought them over to the new snowman. "I would use the olives from my failed snowman, but they're a little bit crushed, and it's way easier to line then up when they're fresh and whole."

Berwald nodded as he came to stand next to me. I handed him one of the stick arms, and we each moved to one side. We carefully lined the sticks up so that they were even, then stuck them in, twisting until they were secure. I stood back to observe our work; it looked a bit odd—three snowballs stacked on top of each other with two stick sticking out of it—no face, no buttons, no nothing. It was a bit sad.

"Now," I said. I could see Berwald from the corner of my eye; he had a focused expression on his handsome face, like every word I said was vitally important to him. _I wonder what that's about,_ I thought. I shook it off, though, continuing. "I think we have enough olives here to at least make a face. I can show you how to do the buttons when Elle comes back with more. Okay?" I turned to look at him, and he nodded. "Okay." I took the bowl of olives and walked up to the snowman, Berwald close behind.

The way we had positioned the sticks, it looked like the snowman was holding out his hands for someone to hand him something. I put the bowl of olives in a small, circular hole that was made where the sticks connected. I grabbed a handful of olives and started outlining the contours of the face, grouping some together to make a big, shiny eye with a thin eyebrow above it. Berwald examined my handiwork and set about copying it, making a mirrored version on the other half of the snowman's face. When we finished the eyes, we started making a smile. I started on the right, he started on the left, and we started arranging olives in downward arches, heading towards the middle.

"Oh no," I said looking at the now empty olive bowl forlornly. "Do you have any more?" Berwald opened his hands out in front of himself, shaking his head. We turned back to the snowman; there was a gap in its smile, about two inches wide. "Oh well," I said, shrugging. "We'll just have to wait until Elle gets back." I sat down in the snow, gazing up at the snowman. It was about six feet tall, taller than me but just a bit shorter than Berwald.

"Ok'y," he said, sitting next to me. He put his legs out straight in front of him, but I curled mine up to my chest.

We sat for a few minutes in silence; it was so long, I was beginning to wonder where Elle was.

"Are you col'd?"

"Hmm?" I wasn't paying attention. I glanced over at him, and he nodded at my compact position. "Oh," I said, "No. I just…" I looked back at the snowman. "I don't like to take up space." I looked at him again, smiling sadly. "But I guess you already knew that, didn't you?" He seemed confused, so I clarified, "I'm sure Uralia was the same way, was she not? We seem to be very similar, so—" I stopped.

"To answ'r yer question, no," he said, surprising me. "Ur'lia…" He watched as snow billowed across the property, floating on the wind. He seemed to gather his thoughts after a moment, and continued, "She w'z n'ver afr'd to m'ke her pr's'nce kn'wn. As ve h've tool'd you, she loov'd traveling. As'de fr'm dat, she v'z…" he chuckled and looked over at me. "Ext'rem'ly lahwood." He reached a hand out tentatively. When I didn't move, he set it gently on my knee. I smiled at him for a moment, before grimacing.

"I'm not her," I whispered, looking away and cutting off whatever he had been about to say.

"I kn'w," he murmured. I glanced at him, but quickly turned away.

"I'm never going to be her, no matter what you guys want…" I looked at him, feeling my eyes begin to water. "I'm sorry, but…" I took a breath, turning away, back to the snowman. "I'm not her," I muttered again. I struggled to keep my voice level; I could feel my whole body shaking with repressed sobs. I waited for Berwald to say something—anything—but my words were received with silence.

A few moments later, I felt a pressure across my shoulders. I leaned into his embrace, putting my head on his shoulder as I sobbed and sobbed. He just sat there, his arm around me, as I cried.

It had all suddenly become too much; in the span of a few minutes, the light and airy persona I had tried to force myself into just…fell away. I had tried so hard these past two days, thinking that maybe, if I pretended everything was fine, it would be. That in itself was not abnormal; I'd done it a lot in my life, but…not at this caliber, and certainly not for so long. Trying to trick so many people, consistently having to keep a smile on your face and a lilt to your voice—it takes a toll on a person, and I wouldn't say it's for the weak-willed.

After what felt like hours, but was probably only minutes, I finally stopped crying. My eyes dried up and I slowly stopped shaking. At some point, I had uncurled my legs; they were now positioned straight out in front of me. I bent them so that I was almost sitting on my knees. I practiced breathing slowly, evenly.

A few more minutes, and the mortification set in.

"Oh my goodness," I muttered, peeling my forehead away from Berwald's shirt. "I am so sorry." I wiped my nose and underneath my eyes, trying to get all the snot and saltwater off of my face. _Good thing I don't wear makeup,_ I thought. "I can't believe I did that." I tried to back up a bit, but he kept his arm around me. "Really, I'm okay now," I said. My face was hot from crying, but I could still feel a blush on my cheeks when I realized just how close I was sitting to Berwald. I looked at him. "Oh," I said sadly, "I wrecked your shirt. Sorry about that." I tried to pat it down, but I was just making it worse, so I stopped. I dropped my hands into my lap and looked down at them, blushing even deeper.

I felt Berwald's gaze on my face, but I didn't look up. "Doo'n't apol'gize," I heard him murmur. I looked up to see him watching me intently. I looked back down. "Yoo've bean hool'ding dis in for a wh'le now, ja?" I nodded, but just a little. "Yoo feel bett'r now, ja?" I looked up at him through my eyelashes, nodding. He gave me a small smile. "Den doo'n't apol'gize. Ev'ryzing is ok'y." He pulled me in closer, and I let my head fall against his chest again.

I don't know how long we sat there—long enough that I stopped shaking completely, but not long enough to make me uncomfortable in my skin. Finally, I stood up, remembering something. "Where's Elle?"

Berwald looked up at me his brow crinkling in confusion. He, too, stood, looking around slowly. He looked back at me, shaking his head. I sighed, running a hand over my face.

"She must have gotten tied up with something," I said. I shrugged. "Oh, well. Guess the snowman will have to wait." Berwald was still looking towards the house, like he'd be able to see Elle wherever she was—which, maybe he could, I don't know, but I doubt it. He looked so serious all of a sudden, closed off. It made me sad—after what had just happened, he could still shut his emotions off so easily. Maybe I should change that…

Quickly, I knelt on the ground once again, scooping up snow. I turned it around and around, effectively creating a compact ball. I looked at Berwald—he still had his back to me, but I could just see a sliver of the side of his face. From what I could tell, he was debating on whether or not to go back inside. Can't have that, now, can we?

I took aim and threw the snowball; it hit him on the back of his neck. I watched as his whole body stiffened, then saw him whip around with a stunned expression. _He's so handsome when he's not emotionless and glaring,_ I thought, but I was too busy laughing to be startled by the thought.

As I laughed and laughed, I failed to realize that his shocked expressions was quickly fading. I wasn't looking when he knelt in the snow and got a snowball of his own. I didn't see the snowball coming at me until it was already too late.

"Aahh!" I cried, but I was still somewhat laughing. I brushed the snow off of my chest, looking over at Berwald with what was supposed to be a death glare; I suspect, however, that it ended up looking like a mischievous grin. I started scooping up snow, pounding them into snowballs as quickly as possible. I wasn't watching him, but I felt snowballs start pounding my head and back and chest.

I tried to keep up, but my throws weren't nearly as accurate as his—I hadn't had a lot of practice in snowball fights, and baseballs are so much easier to throw—and some of the snowballs went wide. I was chucking them out really fast, though, favoring speed over accuracy. Snowballs were going back and forth, and I could hardly see him through the flying snow.

At some point, I couldn't feel any more snowballs hitting me, so I stopped throwing my own and looked around; I couldn't see anything, of course—snow was still coating the air—but I couldn't see Berwald's shadow, even. I called out, "Berwald? Where'd you go?" I was a bit scared, so I stared walking around where I'd seen him last, calling him name.

After a long time—at least, to me—I felt strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me back to the ground. "Aahh!" I shrieked as I landed on my back. I felt a pressure on top of me; someone was hovering in the space above me.

Sure enough, when I opened my eyes, it was to find sky blue ones just inches away. Berwald looked down at me with a smirk on his face. I blushed at his scrutiny, and he chuckled as I turned my head.

I kept watching him out of the corner of my eye—as he got up off of me, standing up, he looked extremely proud of himself. I looked up at him, and he held a hand out to help me up. I took it, and he pulled me to my feet.

"Whoa," I muttered, stumbling a bit—right into Berwald's arms.

I heard his deep chuckle before he said, "Yer a beat cl'msy, yoo kn'w dat?" I blushed—I _really _needed to get that under control—and looked up at him.

"Yeah," I replied. "So I've been told."

He looked at me so affectionately, it made me feel like weeping again. With happiness, though, of course. For a second, I thought he might—

"Lillian! Master Bervald!"


	15. Chapter 15

We both turned to see Elle running toward us. Instantly, we snapped away from each other. I knew _I_ was blushing, but even Berwald's face looked a little heated.

Elle stopped a few feet away, a wide grin on her face and a new jar of olives in her hand. As soon as she saw our expressions, her own turned to one of shock. Suddenly, she turned beet red and backed up a few steps. "Am I interrupting soom-sing?" she asked.

"No," I said quickly, reaching out to take the olives from her. "You're right on time." I smiled at her, popping the lid off the jar and going back to the snowman. "Now," I said, reaching into the jar and grabbing a few olives. _Thank Gods they're dry, _I thought vaguely_. _"Let's fill in this gap, huh? Wouldn't want him going around with a gap in his teeth, now, would we?" Elle laughed with me.

I quickly finished the mouth before turning around. Berwald was watching my movements carefully. I blushed—_again, Good Lords_—and looked down, walking over to stand by him. I could feel his eyes on me and looked up as he asked, "Ev'ryth'ng ok'y?"

"Yeah," I blurted. "Never better." I paused, looking at the snowman. It looked good; it just needed—

"You need buttons," Elle called from a few feet away. She was already making a new pile of snow, preparing to make another snowman. "Oh! Maybe you could put un hat und scarf on zat vun, since it's alvready vreally detailed."

"Great idea!" I turned to Berwald and asked, "You wanna learn how to make those buttons now?" He nodded. "Okay," I said, grabbing a few more olives from the jar by Elle. "I didn't come up with this," I told him. "Elle showed it to me. So, basically, you just take one, and you…"

I explained it exactly as I had been taught, going through the motions to making a perfect line. Berwald watched and listened, never saying a word. When it was done, we stood back to admire it. "Looks pretty good to me." I went over to the supplies, picking up a carrot. "It needs a nose, though." After I put the nose on the snowman, I went over to Elle, watching as she built her own snowman. "Need any help?"

She glanced up at me and smiled. "No, I sink I am _gut_." She looked over at the snowman I made with Berwald, where he was making sure the arms were sturdy. "I still sink you should put clothes yours," she said, looking back at me.

"Oh, yeah," I said. "I forgot." I hurried, taking off my hat and scarf and wrapping the snowman up in them instead. "There." I stepped back. Something was off. "Hmm." I pursed my lips, thinking. Then I took my mittens off, wiggling them onto the ends of the sticks. "Looks great!"

"Vhy don't you bend ze arms up a little," Elle said. "So zat it looks like he's holding his scarf, you know?"

"L'k' d's?" Berwald asked, carefully bending the sticks upward so that the gloves connected with the scarf.

"Yeah," I said thoughtfully as Elle nodded. "That's cool." I reached up and fixed the scarf a little, so that it wasn't covering the mouth so much. "Hey, Berwald," I asked suddenly, "did you have any other work to do today? I don't want to waste your time. You don't have to stay out here with us. You—"

"No," he said, cutting off my rant. "I v's alvr'dy f'n'shed fer da d'y." He looked at me, his face taking on a softer expression. "Und b's'des," he continued, "You'd n'ver vayste m' t'me."

I blushed a little, only turning that much redder when I heard the "Awww!" Elle threw our way.

"Oh," I mumbled. I pulled the collar of my jacket up to cover my flaming cheeks and the idiotic smile that was slowly growing on my lips. "That's…nice."

We all continued playing in the snow, finishing Elle's snowman and tossing snow at each other every now and then. We carefully moved the new snowman over by mine and Berwald's. It was taller than ours—Berwald had had to make the face, since Elle and I couldn't reach—so we put one of its stick arms around the "shoulders" of our snowman. They looked like a cute young couple. You know what that looks like, right? Guy with an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders as the girl giggles into her scarf? It's cute!

Anyway, by the time the sun went behind the trees on the other side of the property, we were making snow angels. It had grown steadily colder as the afternoon wore into evening, and I was shivering a little. I kind of regretted giving my warm mittens to that snowman. But then, I've always had a weak spot for cute things.

"Look!" Elle called.

I went over to her and looked at her angel. She'd added feet to the bottom and a halo to the top. At first, I thought that was all there was. But then I looked where she pointed and giggled a little. The way her coat had scrunched up in the back, it looked like the angel had her arms crossed. It was kind of like she was disappointed in something.

"That's hilarious!" I giggled.

Suddenly, there was a big, cold gust of wind, and I shivered hard. I might love the cold, but that doesn't mean I'm immune to it.

I sneezed. "Maybe n-next time we should m-make a snowman that looks l-like an angel!" Elle looked excited about that, and I grinned at seeing her happy.

I looked around. The sun peeking through the trees made the snow sparkle in certain spots, casting light like a disco ball. It was getting colder by the minute, but it was so beautiful I just pulled my coat in tighteraround myself.

"W-What sh-should we do n-next?" I asked, my chattering teeth making me stutter.

"I th'nk d't is enoof fer da d'y," Berwald said next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "Yoo look a beat c'ld."

"Yes, Lillian, I sink Master Bervald is corvect," Elle said with concern. "You look like a block uv ice."

"Gee, th-thanks," I said sarcastically, shivering again as a blush crept up my cheeks and made the air feel even colder. "Y-You're ri-ight, though. I-It might be t-time to go insi-ide."

Berwald nodded, slowly turning me towards the house. Elle followed behind us after collecting the crate of supplies. She even took my scarf, hat, and gloves from the snowman. I would have put them back on, but they were probably frozen solid by then. I just don't think that would help my mild hypothermia.

When we got inside, Elle offered to get hot chocolate and departed to the kitchen. Berwald led me to the sitting room and sat me on the couch in front of the fire place. I stuck my hands out, trying to get some feeling back into them before taking my coat and boots off to dry. I should have gone to change; my clothes were soaked through—my jeans dark and clingy, my light green shirt sticking to my stomach. It gave me the feeling of being frozen to the bone.

But finally being able to sit down and warm up made me realize just how tired I was. I could hardly _think_ about moving, let alone actually _move_. I just leaned back on the couch and closed my eyes.

Berwald's arm curled around my shoulders, and I blushed a little as my head lolled on his chest. _Calm down, _I thought, chastising myself. _It's just for warmth._

"Ve probably should huv come inside sooner, but…" I heard Elle say. A tinkling noise grew closer as she trailed off, and I sat up and looked over to see her with a tray. It had a picture and several mugs on it, and it made a small clang as she set it down on a table by the couch. She carefully poured a dark brown liquid into each mug before dropping a few marshmallows into them. "Ve vur huvving fun, verrent ve?" she asked, handing a mug to Berwald as he nodded.

"Of course," I replied as I accepted a mug for myself. The smell of chocolate wafted across my face, and I inhaled it deeply. The mug was burning hot, but it felt almost pleasant against my frozen hands. "Aahh," I sighed. "Thank you, Elle."

"You are velcome," she said. She smiled, grabbing her own mug before sitting in one of the armchairs.

I took a sip of my drink, nearly burning my tongue in the process. "Mm!" I grunted, my face scrunching up. Swallowing, I grimaced. "It's…bitter."

"Huh?" Elle asked, confused. Then she giggled. "Oh! I forgot! Amevricans add sugary milk chocolate to zares." She grinned. "Doon't vurry—you vill get used to it."

"I'm sure," I grumbled, taking another gulp. I heard Berwald clear his throat as if to disguise a chuckle, and I smiled.

We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, just warming up and drinking our hot chocolates. As I finished my drink, I could feel my eyelids drooping. I tried to shake it off, putting my mug back on the tray and settling back down. I felt warm on the inside, though my wet clothes made me shiver. I wrapped my arms around myself, my eyes drooping again.

"Lillian?"

"Hmmm?"

"You alvright zare?" There was laughter in her voice.

"Mmhmmm."

"Are you shore? You aren't tired at all?"

"Mmm…Maybe a little," I replied lazily. My voice sounded odd—different, somehow. I brushed it off as tiredness.

I cracked my eyes open just in time to see Berwald and Elle share a look—and I promptly brushed _that_ off as my companions trying to translate my no doubt slurred speech.

"Are you sure you feel alright, L'll'an?" Berwald's voice sounded weird, too. I couldn't quite put my finger on it—maybe it was because his words actually had vowels?

"I'm _fine_, Berwald." I rolled my eyes, though they were still droopy with fatigue. "I'm just tired…and cold. I should go change." I frowned, feeling my eyebrows scrunch up a little. "In a minute, though."

Elle giggled, but the sound was nervous. "Yes, vell…perhaps you shoold get soom sleep. You vurked pretty hard today."

"You're right," I replied. I stretched, standing a bit unsteadily. I grabbed my coat and boots before looking back at the two still sitting. "I'll see you guys tomorrow, yeah?"

"Shoore…" Elle said slowly. "Tomorrow."

Berwald offered to walk with me, but I insisted I was fine. Even so, he stood and put his mug down, following me to the doorway. He didn't follow any further, just watched as I walked upstairs. I waved goodnight before rounding a corner and stumbling my way to my room.

Opening the door, I set my boots just inside before tossing my still-soaked coat into a hamper.

I leaned against the door, listening to it click closed. I sighed. _Today was good, _I thought. Then I grimaced. _Aside from that one thing…I need to get myself under control._

Straightening, I went over to the closet and pulled out a pair of sleep shorts and a t-shirt with long sleeves. I took a quick shower before dressing and slipping under the covers. As I settled in, I ran a comb through my hair. Turning out the light, I set my glasses on the table.

_I wonder how long this will last. Days? Months? Years? If it lasts _that_ long, I wonder if I'll ever get to travel. That would be fun._

_Funny…I haven't had any nightmares since I got here._

Of course, me being me and having just the same amount of luck as always, I spoke too soon.


	16. Chapter 16

_I was running. Faster than I have ever been able to. I was running so fast that everything around me was a blur._

_There were footsteps all around me, a grip on my arms. I couldn't see anything in front of me, but judging from the shouting I assumed Scandia was leading us. The two gripping my arms were Berwald and Mathias. They weren't so much dragging me as making sure we all stayed together._

_I didn't know who was behind us, but I knew almost instinctually that it was not the younger boys. This was proven true when the back of my cloak was yanked back, pulling me away from the boys and into the arms of another._

_"__You can't take her from me!" a voice shouted from behind me. "She's mine!"_

_"_No!_" Scandia roared, turning and running back._

_A sword appeared in front of my face, pointed at Scandia's chest. He paused, reeling back, his face still fuming. He drew his own sword, and the chest pressed against my back shook with menacing laughter._

_In the same moment, something caught my eye, just barely at the edge of my vision:_

_The end of a white scarf, billowing in the slight breeze._

Ivan.

_"__You won't do it, _Scandia_," he said scathingly. "You can't hurt me without hurting her."_

_Scandia growled. "Let her go."_

_"__Why would I do that?" Ivan asked giddily. His grip on me tightened; his muscular arm was like a boa constrictor, wrapped around my waist and holding me up so that I had to stand on my toes. "She is my beloved little sister. We belong together."_

_"__No you don't," Berwald said. He and Mathias appeared on either side of Scandia, both brandishing their own swords._

_"__She belongs with her real family," Mathias said. His usually smiling face was serious. "Us, not you."_

_"__Why don't we let her decide?"_

_Ivan suddenly let me go, causing me to fall to the ground. I dragged myself to the side, looking up at the four facing off._

_"__Come on, sis," Scandia ground out. He maneuvered his weapon to one hand so he could reach his other out to me. "Let's go home."_

_I looked from him to Ivan, then to Berwald and Mathias. All four were watching me expectantly. Without them noticing, I took something (actually, six—very small—somethings) from my boot. Standing, I went to Berwald first._

_As I approached, he looked surprised. Only just, though; his face was still blank. I reached up, wrapping my arms around his neck in a hug. As I felt his arms around my waist, I tucked two of the objects in my hand into the back of his shirt. As they got caught up in the tucked-in fabric, he froze._

_"__Shh," I murmured. I combed my fingers through his hair. "It's all going to be okay," I said. My conscious self—the one watching from the outside—realized that my voice had a weird quality to it. Not an accent, but close. It was the same quality that made the boys' voices different. The same quality that had been present when I was talking to Berwald earlier._

_Berwald's arms tightened around me, bringing me back to the scene in front of me. His head was buried in the junction of my neck and shoulder. I kissed the hair by his ear._

_"__I love you," I whispered. I hugged him tightly for a moment before letting him go._

_"__Always," he whispered. He let me go reluctantly._

_Next, I went to Mathias._

_I gave him a hug, letting the next three objects fall down into his shirt. He didn't seem to notice—he was shaking in my arms. His grip was breathtakingly tight._

_"__Please don't," he whispered brokenly. "I can't lose my family."_

_"__Shh," I soothed. I rubbed his back comfortingly. "It's okay. You're not losing me. You're still my big brother. And I'll _always_ be your little sister."_

_"__But—"_

_"__Shh. Listen. I don't have much time. You have to listen to me. You need to be strong. I know it's hard. I do. But the others are going to need you. You shouldn't be sad. Just—" my voice broke. "Just be happy. Can you do that for me?"_

_"__I don't know," Mathias mumbled._

_"__Well _try_," I snapped._

_"__O…Okay."_

_"__Good," I said as I let him go. He, too, retracted his arms reluctantly._

_Next was Scandia._

_"__I love you, big brother," I whispered as we embraced. I let one of the last two items fall down his shirt; I know he felt it, but he just held me tighter. "My knight in shining armor."_

_"__I'll always rescue you," he murmured into my hair._

_I smiled grimly up at hi before kissing his cheek. "Not this time."_

_He nodded. "I know." He released me._

_Finally, I went to Ivan. Reaching up, I pretended to straighten his scarf. Really, though, I was just putting the last item in one of the folds of fabric. "You know, you're probably my sweetest big brother," I said softly. "Others might think you're crazy, but I know you have a lot to deal with." I smiled up at him, gripping his arm. "I'll always be with you."_

_He smiled down at me. "Of course." He smirked at the other boys._

_"__Unfortunately…" I trailed off. Then, quick as lightning, I grabbed the hilt of Ivan's sword, taking him by surprise. I quickly wrested it from his grasp. By the time he realized what was happening, I was already several feet away, pointing the sword at his throat. "Well, unfortunately, it will have to be in your memories and heart. And land, I suppose. Sorry, bro. As much as I love all of my siblings…all of the nations, really…As much as I want to be with them always…" I smiled bleakly. "It has come to my attention that it is time for me to go."_

_I paused, looking at them. Then I smiled for real, tossing the sword to the ground. "Now, who's going to do it? Scandia? Berwald? Mathias?"_

_"__What's going on here?" a voice asked behind me._

_I spun around, only to come face to face with blood-red eyes and stark whiter hair._

_I smiled again. "Ah, Gil! I didn't know you were here!"_

_He shrugged. "Well, I do live just about next door." He paused. "I heard people running in the woods. Figured I'd come check it out, being the awesome nation that I am."_

_I chuckled. "Of course." I inched closer, growing serious once more. "Well, remember when you were younger? And Germania…left us? Do you remember what I told you?"_

_His eyes narrowed. "Yes. You said he went to the special Heaven, where all the great ancients and empires go, along with the bosses."_

_"__That's right," I replied. I stepped closer, stopping an inch away from him. "And when you said that that was stupid and wrong, what did I tell you?"_

_Gilbert sucked in a breath, his ruby eyes widening. "You said—You said—" He choked._

_I smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. "I told you that, one day, I was going to go there. I was going to die, and I would go to that special Heaven. And I would be with Father Germania and Granpa Rome and Mama Rus. And then, one day, long after I went there, long after Brother Scandia joined my so Ber and Luka and the boys could take over…" I chuckled. "After a few hundred years, you—"_

_"__I would meet you," Gil muttered. "I would let West take over and come meet you."_

_I smiled. "That's right," I said again. "Little _bruder_…" I trailed off, hugging him. "It's time for me to go. It's time for the process to begin." I sighed. "I left a box in the field. It has instructions inside. You're the only one _awesome_ enough to do it." I giggled, then sighed again, letting him go._

_I looked at all five of them._

_"__If nobody want to be the one, I understand." I picked up Ivan's sword, turning my back to them to do so. "I—"_

_I didn't finish._

_There was a ripping noise. And pain—so much pain._

_The blade of a sword stabbed up into my torso—the hilt pressed against my lower back, the tip emerging just over my heart. I smiled as I slumped over._

_Gilbert caught me as I felt back. "Find peace, _schwester_," he whispered in my ear._

_I giggled as my vision faded. "I'll tell them you said hello."_

_It went black._

* * *

**So...**

**I'm back!**

**I already posted one chapter today, as I'm sure you've seen, but I really wanted to talk to you guys.**

**Man, I can't believe I just left like that. I've just been so busy! School started, and I think I took on a little too much with that, hahahaha. I _have_ written another chapter or two for this story, but until I've written beyond that, I won't post them. Also, I wrote out a sort of plan for this story, and I think I might take it as far as 40-50 chapters. I'm not sure, though.**

**As for those of you reading my other two stories...**

**I don't know when I'll be updating Chance. Maybe in a month or two.**

**Friendships Heal, my Ouran story...Well, I had to start over, kind of; the original story is still going up, but I'll also be posting a separate story with a similar story line and the same characters. I didn't want to do it that way, but it was necessary; I had an idea to make it better, and I needed to get it out. Now, though, I have about eight chapters I need to type up for each of those. The one will be updated when I'm done here, but the other...It might be posted next month.**

**Plus, I had a new idea for _another_ Ouran story, which is my current project.**

**I love to write, don't I? My brain can't focus on one thing at a time, haha. *sweats***

**Anyway...**

**Yeah.**

**Next couple of chapters will be posted next month, probably.**

**But Read and Review, mkay pumpkins?**

**Talk soon!**

**Happy Reading!**

**Anya**


	17. Chapter 17

**I know I haven't updated any of my stories in a while, but that's because I recently made the move to Archive of Our Own! My new handle over there is AnonymousObsesser, come look me up!**

**I'm going to move all my stories over there after posting this, so I'll hopefully be able to update a few of them. I still don't know how often that will be, though-it probably won't be too often, and I may just end up waiting to do some mass updates next summer.**

**Regardless, I hope you'll hop over there and check me out! I won't be deleting this account, but I also won't be updating here any more.**

**Sorry if this makes ya'll ditch me!**

**Hope to see you soon!**


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